A Figure in the Shadows
by A Diamond in the Rough
Summary: It's five years after Freya's return. But Merlin's spell ward around Camelot is failing and there's talk of a new sorcerer who walks in the night, and is never seen in day. Who is it? An enemy of the past? Or a friend? Enjoy, and please review! Will be updated soon. Sequel to my first story, which is complete, called "The Gifts of a Dragon." Events After s3ep6 never took place. :P
1. Five Years Later

Merlin, Court Warlock of Camelot, was working in his chambers when two small objects flashed past the open door. He and his wife, Freya, shared a glance and then laughed, runnning to the door to see a mane of gleaming black hair and a set of waving golden tresses disappearing around the corner.

"I wonder how Uther would roar if he saw what use Arthur puts to the palace now," chuckled Merlin. "Two more infirmaries, much lower taxes-and Ania and Ygraine running everywhere."

"I agree," said Freya, returning to the mortar in which she was grinding herbs. "Ania would irk him especially-using magic however and wherever she pleases. Have you got on with that spell you were working on for Arthur?"

"Yes, I'm nearly halfway done. But I will need one of Ania's hairs. . .queer though it sounds, I really do need one. Where is her comb?"

"She's got it with her. You'd better go after them and get it."

Ania was Merlin and Freya's five-year-old daughter and the oldest of their three children. Next came Balinor, who was two-and-a-half and uncannily resembled Merlin. He was too young as of yet to do more than toddle around the castle accompanied by his parents. The third and youngest was Liliane after Freya's mother, or Anne for short. She was only one month old and did not do much except sleep.

So Merlin headed off after Ania and Ygraine, who was the Crown Princess of Camelot. He found them where he was sure he would find them; in the throne room, sitting by the feet of Queen Guinevere. Gwen was combing out Ania's hair while her daughter Ygraine held baby Tom, the small Prince.

"Hullo, Gwen," said Merlin. "Could I have the comb, please?"

"Of course," said Gwen, smiling.

Merlin pulled out the solitary long black hair wound around the teeth of the comb. With a comical bow which made the two little girls squeal with laughter, he smiled at the Queen and departed-bumping into King Arthur outside the door.

"Merlin!" said Arthur. "How's the crop spell coming along?"

"In progress, Arthur," said Merlin, assuming a wise air that made Arthur shout with laughter. "Magic cannot be rushed."

"Have you been to see Kilgarrah lately?"

Kilgarrah was the last dragon in existence. He had once been imprisoned under Camelot, but Merlin had set him free and now Kilgarrah lived by the Lake of Avalon as its guardian. Freya had once been the guardian of Avalon, but as a gift to her, Kilgarrah had taken her place, allowing her to remain in Camelot with Merlin and Ania, who was then a baby not much older than Anne was now. Kilgarrah could not leave the lake very often, so Merlin went to see him now and then.

"Yes, just yesterday. He's enchanted a dragon scale for Ania-it starts burning with magical fire when she touches it. He said it was something his daughter Anharra loved to do, before she was able to breathe fire."

"It's a good thing you named Ania after Anharra."

"It is. He has told me that he can speak to Ania in his mind the same way he could once speak to Anharra."

Arthur then looked around and drew Merlin off into an alcove.

"What is it?" whispered Merlin.

"The spell-ward you placed on Camelot-it's dying," said Arthur, referring to the ward against dark spells that Merlin had created two years ago. "Is it something that happens with time?"

"No," said Merlin. "Those wards are meant to be eternal-unless something tries to remove them."

"Someone _is _trying to," whispered Arthur.

"What do you mean?"

"There are rumors of another sorcerer in the lower town-one dressed in black who only appears at night. I heard it today from Elyan. Have you?"

"No-I've not gone to the town for months."

"Look into it," said Arthur, nodding vigorously. "Funny. . .things have been happening in the town. I'm not exactly sure as to the details, but. . .well, try and research."

"I will," promised Merlin. He returned to his chambers with a furrow on his brow, to discuss the matter with Freya. What could be so powerful as to counter a ward that had taken so long to cast?


	2. Research Begins

Merlin had had a troubled sleep. He and Freya had gone over Gaius's old spell books late into the night long after the children were in bed. Near four in the morning, Freya had fallen asleep over her book, and Merlin had carried her up to the room in which the children slept and then continued his search.

Neither Gaius nor Merlin had found any sort of spell that could erode the range of a spell-ward. At last, at six o'clock, Merlin snatched an hour's sleep and then awoke unable to focus his eyes.

"You stay in bed," instructed Freya.

"I've. . .got. . .work. . .to. . .do," mumbled Merlin with difficulty. Freya sighed. Sometimes her husband simply could not be compelled to do what was best for him.

"I'll bring you a draught to counter sleep," said Freya. "But you must stay here until I bring it."

So Merlin waited for the draught. Meanwhile, Ania and Balinor awoke and came to sit beside him.

"Are you sick, Papa?" asked Ania, patting Merlin's cheek.

"No, little dragonling," said Merlin, who had picked up the habit of calling Ania this from Kilgarrah. "I'm just _very _sleepy."

Freya returned with the draught and Merlin jumped out of bed. He had some serious work to do.


	3. The Figure Unmasked

At around noon, Merlin decided to go to the town to find out more about the "things" Arthur had spoken of.

As he prepared to leave, Freya watched silently and then said, "Wear a cloak."

"Is it cold?"

"No. . .I just have a bad feeling about this. . .You must go, but I don't want the person Arthur told you about seeing you, or knowing who you are."

Merlin nodded, hugged his wife, said goodbye to the children, and left with a cloak. Once he was in the hallway outside the room, he put on the cloak and pulled the hood low over his face. He made his way through the passages of Camelot, and then let himself out through the main door. He was in a black cloak, and was moving quite steadily when he saw Arthur. At once Arthur looked up.

"Halt! Who goes there!"

Merlin turned and began to run, hoping Arthur would give up the chase. He was wrong, however, for within five seconds he was pressed against a tree with a sword to his back.

"Let me go, clotpole!" cried Merlin. "It's _me_!"

"Oh, Merlin," said Arthur, frowning as he sheathed his sword. "What in the world are you doing dressed like this?"

"Trying to find that sorcerer you spoke of," said Merlin. "And I was trying _not _to attract attention."

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry," said Arthur, nodding his head and discreetly slipping away.

Merlin went unhindered, looking for anything strange in people's manners. He did not see anything strange until he ran into another figure in the shadows of a dark alley, hooded and cloaked like he was.

"Who are you?" asked Merlin.

"I know your voice," came the terse, slightly familiar tones from beneath the hood. "Lower your hood."

Merlin obeyed without a second thought, and he thought he heard a sigh of relief come from under the hood of the other.

"As I have shown you my face," he said, "do me the courtesy of showing me yours."

The other figure nodded, and a pair of hands lowered the hood, baring the face of a man Merlin had thought he would never see again.

"Lancelot!"

Lancelot grinned. He was a great deal more disheveled now, as if he had been traveling for days. Apart from that, there was a certain grimness in the eyes that had not been there the last time Merlin had seen him.

"It's good to see you, Merlin."


	4. Lancelot's Revelation

"Where have you been for the past six years?" asked Merlin. "Things around Camelot are a great deal different now."

"I heard about Arthur and Gwen's wedding," said Lancelot. "I knew, then, or at least thought that magic would be legal now. Is it?"

"Yes, and I'm Court Warlock," said Merlin. "But why did you come back? And where were you?"

"I've been in Cenred's kingdom. . .a servant," said Lancelot. "He's never actively challenged Camelot, so I thought it safe to come," said Lancelot. "At any rate, he will be a threat soon. A woman has persuaded him to be an ally of hers-a witch, claiming that the throne of Camelot is rightfully hers, as first child of Uther Pendragon."

"Have you seen her?" asked Merlin.

"Yes, I have. . .a blonde woman named Morgause, and, if what I've heard is true, a High Priestess of the Old Religion. She plans to 'strike at the magic that binds Camelot.' I hadn't any idea what that meant, so I decided to return and tell Arthur and you."

"Hm," said Merlin, as they walked back towards the castle. "I have never heard of this woman. . .well, continue."

"There isn't much more to tell," said Lancelot. "Although the night I arrived in Camelot. . .which was two or three days ago. . .Camelot seemed to glow pale blue. If there is some ancient safeguard on the city, probably she wants to remove it."

"My spell ward is dying," said Merlin. "That may be why. But, tell me, why didn't you come to the citadel right away? Why wait three days?"

"Because doubtless spies will have been sent after me," said Lancelot. "Come, Merlin. Let us tell Arthur."

"So Cenred has sent sorcerers to strike at the ward?" asked Arthur.

"Either that or Morgause will do it herself. . .and she wants Cenred's army to conquer Camelot after the ward is gone."

"And she said she was the first child of my father?"

"Yes. She has your hair and build exactly, Arthur. . .there may yet be truth in what she says. The eyes are the same shape, though they are brown. . .yet the hardness in them was something I have never seen in the eyes of any woman."

"Did she say anything else?"

Merlin, standing off to the side, knew instinctively that this was the one thing that Lancelot had not told him while they were walking to the castle.

"Yes, my Lord, though this is something that confuses me more than any of the other facts I learned about the attack."

"And what is that?" asked Arthur.

"She said she was returning to Camelot to fetch her sister, who has magic and does not know her true parentage."

"Did she state the name of the sister?" asked Arthur, frowning. Gwen and Morgana glanced at each other questioningly before turning their gazes back to Lancelot."

"Yes, she did, my Lord."

"And what was it?" asked Arthur, beginning to become impatient.

Here, Lancelot turned his eyes to someone standing behind Arthur, and said, as if the words were dragged from him,

"The Lady Morgana."

Morgana's jaw dropped.

"Did she mention how she was related?" asked Arthur, managing to question Lancelot despite his astonishment. "Or the age difference?"

"She is four years older than Morgana. They share both parents, my Lord. According to Morgause. . .both she and the Lady Morgana are the daughters of Vivienne of Cornwall. . ."

"And their father?" asked Arthur quietly.

"Uther Pendragon," whispered Lancelot.


	5. The Truth

After the meeting, everyone was in something of a shock. Morgana got up as if in a trance from her seat beside the twin thrones and made her way out of the throne room, declining politely Gwen's offer to accompany her. She was followed by Lancelot, who headed to the chamber that had been prepared for him. Arthur dropped heavily into the throne and then dismissed the meeting; the knights all filed out, and only two guards stayed by the door and Gwen in her throne beside Arthur.

"Is there. . .a spell?" asked Arthur, almost faintly. "To discover the truth about this?"

"I believe there is, Arthur," said Merlin. "I can have it ready by tomorrow morning. . ."

"Yes. And do not hide anything it yields from me," said Arthur. "Thank you, Merlin."

So Merlin departed the room and went frowning back to his own chambers, where three small people cannoned into him in rapid succession; Ania first, Ygraine second, and Balinor third.

"Can we go into the throne room now?" asked Ania plaintively. "Aunty promised she would play a special game with us this morning."

"No, chicken," said Merlin, shooing all three of him back through the door. "You must stay with me for some time; Aunty and Uncle are talking about something very important."

"What is it?" asked Ygraine.

"Something direly important. If it's not resolved, Ygraine, we could _all _be in danger."

The two girls seemed to be satisfied by this, so they returned to the table at which Freya had three glass tubes, the contents of which were frothing viciously.

"What's that?" asked Merlin.

"It's a remedy for the cow fever," said Freya distractedly. "Too many milkmaids are coming down with it. . .the one this morning made sixteen. Gaius lent me some books and I decided to try and make something that could help with the fever and prevent its beginning at the same time. Anyway, what did Lancelot say at the meeting?"

"Apparently she's Morgana's full sister," said Merlin. "And a half-sibling of Arthur. . .and, well, if she really is Uther's child, she is older than Arthur-"

"And has she the right to the throne?"

"The fact that she is a woman might prevent her from being a sovereign queen," said Merlin. "Though Gwen and Arthur rule jointly and she is to succeed him if he dies, I do not think a woman as a sovereign of her own has ever ruled."

"What about the dynasty that ruled before the Pendragons? Their second queen, Rosamond, she was a sovereign queen. . ."

"Who was married. I don't think this Morgause is."

"How did Arthur take it?"

"Remarkably well, to tell the truth."

Freya added a pinch of a sticky paste to one of the glass tubes and then blew out the flame burning beneath it. Then she turned to face Merlin.

"What will you do?"

"First of all, I'll cast a truth spell. . ."

Merlin cleared a space on the table. Freya gave him a basin, which he filled with water from a jug standing nearby. "_Kathea andro verita, monstrata videam._" he said.

At once there appeared an image of Gaius and Uther on the surface of the water, which had become as still as glass.

_The child died, my Lord. _

_ What a. . .pity, poor Vivienne._

_ What would you have done if the child had lived?_

_ Thankfully I need not meditate on that. Go at once and do something for the Lady Vivienne. _

Then the image faded. Gaius was standing on the outskirts of Camelot, near the forest. In his arms was a tiny baby with bright golden curls like Ygraine's. He handed her to a hooded woman. "_Take good care of the babe_," instructed Gaius.

The woman nodded and then made off into the trees. Gaius looked after her for a while and then left. Once again, the image dissolved into nothing. When it reformed, Uther was standing alone on a balcony. He handed a note to a slender woman who greatly resembled Morgana; she left and the scene left Uther, following the woman as she made her way to a deserted corridor-the same corridor which led to Gaius's chambers. She glanced around and then opened the note, and read the eight words there.

_ Never tell Morgana that I am her father. _

The woman crumpled the note until it was a tiny ball; and this she placed in a torch that was burning on the wall. Then she glanced around and departed down the corridor.

Then the water suddenly became clear again, and Merlin and Freya raised stricken eyes to each other.

"So Morgause was telling the truth," said Freya. "She _is _Arthur's older half-sister-she would be three years older than him. . .since he is one year older than Morgana. Was Uther married to Ygraine then?"

"No, he wasn't," said Merlin. "He married her a year after that, and two years later Arthur was born and she died. I suppose a year later Morgana was born. . ."

Merlin went at once to the throne room. When he knocked, Arthur himself let him in.

"Well?" asked Arthur. "Is what Lancelot heard that woman say. . .true?"

"I am afraid it is, Arthur," said Merlin, noting that nobody was in the room besides Gwen; even the guards had gone. "Every word."

"And Morgana?" asked Arthur. "True about her as well?"

"Yes. She is your half sister." said Merlin quietly.

"So Morgause. . ."

"Yes, Arthur," said Merlin. "She is truly the first child of Uther Pendragon."

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After that, Merlin decided that he would go and see how Morgana was faring. When he arrived at her chamber, he fould that her maid, Alarice, was not there, and she was sitting alone at her desk and gazing out into the night as if she were frozen.

"How are you?" he asked.

Morgana turned around and smiled at him. "Exactly how you would feel in my position. It seems Uther was too ashamed to claim me as his even when I came to live here; he sent my father to his death, and he would have had my sister killed. Not that I have ever seen her, or know her. . .but we share the same blood."

"I'm sorry," said Merlin.

"Don't be," said Morgana. "It's not your fault. . .and I'm being an idiot. Arthur's got a lot more to worry about than I do."

"Well. . .do you need anything?"

"Can I come back with you?" she asked. "I need some company. The children always cheer me up."

"Of course."

So Morgana and Merlin went back to his rooms, where Freya was just serving supper to Ania, Ygraine, and Tom. At the sight of him and Morgana, they all squealed and ran to either him or to her, for "Aunty Morgana" was a great favorite among both Arthur's and Merlin's children.

"Would you like to have supper with us, Morgana?" asked Freya.

"I would love to, thank you," said Morgana. Merlin fetched an extra plate and then the six of them sat down to their supper.

"How are you?" asked Freya.

"As all right as anyone could be," said Morgana with a smile. "Well, aside from the revelation that Arthur is my brother and that somewhere I have a sister who is trying to take over Camelot, I am as right as rain."

And Merlin went to bed that night wondering what in the world he was to do.


	6. The Calm Before the Storm

The next morning, Merlin woke Freya early.

"Freya! Freya, get up."

"What?" said Freya, pushing herself up on her elbows. "Are the children all right?"

"Yes, but Gwen's at the door asking for you. Will you see her?"

"Of course I will-just let me get out of my nightgown."

So Merlin left the room while Freya dressed, and went to talk to Gwen.

"Why do you want to see her?" he asked, while catching hold of Balinor, who was making straight for Merlin's cup of hot tea. "Is it anything to do with the whole business of Morgause and Lancelot?"

"Yes, I wanted to see if she would-oh, here she is," and Freya came out into the front room, looking distractingly pretty in a white summer gown. "Freya. . .Merlin has told you about everything that has happened, has he not?"

"Of course, my Lady," said Freya. "And aside from that, Morgana came to supper last night and we talked about it a little."

"Good. I want you to keep her company," said Gwen. "If, of course, it's not too much trouble. She doesn't seem to want to talk to me, and I can understand that, she's thinking I'm now her sister-in-law and just rethinking her whole life and how she thought of it. Will you try to do that? I'll more than understand if you can't-"

"It is done, my lady," said Freya with a smile. "I'll ask her for help with my cow fever remedy. . .it's not coming on too well."

"Thank you," said Gwen, hugging Freya. "And Merlin, Arthur wants to see you. . ."

"Yes, I'll come back with you," said Merlin, darting to catch Balinor, who was once again making a beeline for the cup of tea. "I could use a talk with the clotpole. . ."

With a grin on her face, Freya listened to Merlin and Gwen's conversation as they made their way down the outside corridor;

"You oughtn't to call him 'clotpole,' he's my husband now, and the King to boot. . ."

"But to me he'll always be a clotpole. . ."

With that, she laughed, and drank Merlin's tea to ensure Balinor wouldn't get a hold of it. Then, she took Ania, Balinor, and Anne to the royal nursery, where the nursemaid Kaeya looked after baby Tom, who was a year old. Small Ygraine was sewing a sampler in a corner.

"Oh, Kaeya," said Freya, "Excuse me, but would you mind the children for a while? I have to go and speak to the Lady Morgana. . ."

"Of course," said Kaeya. "When will you return?"

"In fifteen minutes at the latest," said Freya. "Thank you, then."

So Freya went to Morgana's room, where she knocked. Morgana herself opened the door; it appeared that the maid Alarice was not there.

"Morgana, I need some help with a remedy," she said in a rush. "A cow-fever tincture. Will you come? Gaius isn't too well, and I'm sure he taught you and Merlin well. . .I just can't seem to get it right."

"I doubt I can do better than you, you're the Court Physician now," said Morgana. "Of course I'll try, but we might have to find someone else to help."

Then they went back to Freya's rooms, fetching the children on the way. Ygraine abandoned her sampler and insisted on coming too, so they allowed her to.

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"So did you find anything about the ward?" asked Arthur.

"No, not yet..." said Merlin. "I'm going out today to find the degree of damage that's been done and renew the ward to buy us some time, though. . .do you want to come?"

"Actually, I have to go over a plan of Cenred's castle that Lancelot drew for me. It might come in useful. . ."

"Of course."

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	7. NOT A CHAPTER-CHARACTER DESCRIPTION

Okay, so this obviously isn't a chapter, but MildeAmasoj asked for a character description of the 5 children, so here it is.)

(Children of Merlin and Freya)

Ania: Five years old. She has black hair and Merlin's blue eyes, and her face is like Freya's.

Balinor is two, and he looks exactly like a baby Merlin would, except that his eyes are brown.

Liliane: Looks like a very small Freya with blue eyes :) I month old.

(Children of Arthur and Gwen)

Ygraine is four years old and has long blonde hair. She looks a bit like the older Ygraine and a little like Morgause as well.

Tom is one year old. He has skin exactly between Arthur's and Gwen's, and he has Gwen's curly hair and Arthur's eyes.

-SPOILER ALERT-

Just for those of you who went to the bottom, Morgana's romance and eventual marriage is in this story. Want me to say to whom? Well, not just yet. . .


	8. A Talk in the Gardens

Morgana was sitting on a bench in the palace gardens. Freya had been so kind to her, all that week, taking her out of herself and, most mercifully, out of her thoughts. That week, Morgana had done absolutely nothing besides helping Freya with remedies, playing with the children, and, in the evenings, Merlin and Freya taught her so much about the study of healing which she had never known before. Yes, that week had been a very pleasant week indeed for her. She had not seen Arthur very much, as he was making battle plans to ready Camelot for the potential attack from Cenred's kingdom.

Her eyes were closed and her face turned towards the sun when suddenly someone stood in front of her, and her eyelids went dark. She opened her eyes, expecting to see one of the children there, but it was Lancelot. Before his return to Camelot, she had only seen him once or twice.

"Lady Morgana," he said, inclining his head deeply.

"Lancelot," said Morgana. "What are you doing here? I thought you were with Arthur and the knights helping him with his plans."

"I was," said Lancelot with a nod. "But the meeting ended about half an hour ago, and the Lady Freya asked me to find you."

As the wife of the Court Sorcerer, Freya's official title was The Lady Freya Linden, Court Physician of Camelot. However, so few people ever called her "Lady Freya" that Freya herself had forgotten her title long before.

"What for?" asked Morgana. "Is it time for the noon meal yet?"

"No," said Lancelot, sitting on the grass a few feet away from the bench. "Not for another hour and a half. . .she was worried about you, you see."

"She's one of the kindest women ever to grace the world," said Morgana with a smile at the thought of her friend. "But she worries about me too much. She's only twenty-three, but she takes care of me as though she were my mother."

"You are the same age, though, are you not?"

"Yes, we are the same age," said Morgana. "But I'm a few months older."

"Ah," said Lancelot.

"Can you tell me a bit about yourself?" asked Morgana. "Merlin and Arthur and Gwen know you so well but I don't at all."

"They talk so much about you, all three of them, that I feel like I know you," said Lancelot, smiling. "Well, I was born in Cielar-it's a kingdom that no longer exists, it fell twenty years ago, when I was still a child of four. Anyway, then I was raised in the kingdom of Queen Annis-you have heard of her?"

"Of course," said Morgana.

"Well, then I happened to come here, slay a beast, and meet Arthur and Merlin and be forced from Camelot for my pains," said Lancelot with a wry half-smile. "Arthur _was _a bit of a clotpole, as Merlin so adroitly terms it."

"Yes, he was ever since we were children," said Morgana, allowing herself to remember the young Arthur, who had been a bit spoilt. A more than a bit, actually. . .he had been so frustrated at discovering that Morgana was a better swordsman than he was that he refused to fight her after that, while she tortured him by sparring with anyone and everyone who could beat Arthur in a swordfight consistently-and she would win against them. They were mostly boys from the village a little older than her, and she suspected that one of two of them had let themselves be beaten deliberately in order to humiliate the young Arthur further.

"Do you remember when you and Gwen were kidnapped and Gwen was forced to pass for you?"

"Yes, I do," said Morgana with a shudder. "Certainly. What about it?"

"I helped them get her back, but I left on the way to Camelot, for Cenred's kingdom," said Lancelot. "Merlin, Gwen, and Arthur have actually seen me pretty often."

"Why did you leave?"

"I'd rather not say why," Lancelot said apologetically. Then he got up. "I must go in now."

"Of course you must," said Morgana, nodding her head. "Well, until later, I suppose."

Then Lancelot turned and walked back into the castle. Morgana mused over the one thing that puzzled her; why Lancelot had not returned to Camelot with Merlin, Gwen, and Arthur. Suddenly, it hit her with a pang just before she was about to get up and go inside.

_He was in love with Gwen-really in love with her-and then Arthur came and took her away. . ._


	9. The Ward in Place

While Morgana and Lancelot were talking in the gardens, Merlin was working on a new spell ward.

It was nearly finished; all he needed, according to his book of protective magic, was a small amount of Camelot soil, and he had then to grind that into his mortar. Herbs and ingredients had a great deal of effect on words that had to be made by hand. Freya was not in the room; her remedy was finished at last and she was down in the village giving vials of it to the households of people who had been affected by the illness. Ania, Balinor, and Anne were asleep in the inner room, and suddenly a persistent sound of crying reached Merlin's ears. He abandoned his work and went inside, where he found Anne crying. He lifted her up and laid her over his shoulder, gently patting her back.

"What happened, Anne?" he said softly. "Was it a nightmare? Well, then I will take you with me in your basket."

So he did just that. Anne refused to go to sleep again, so he set her beside him and continued his work. But soon the problem came; he needed some soil, and he could not leave Anne alone. So he opened his window and looked down. Below in the courtyard were five people; Lancelot was sitting on the steps as if in a trance, and Arthur's manservant George was brushing down Arthur's horse before taking it to the stable, as he always did. Ygraine and Gwen were also there, and in Gwen's lap was baby Tom.

"Lancelot?" called Merlin. Lancelot looked up, grinned, and waved. "Can you chuck me a clump of earth?"

"Chuck you a clump of earth? what on earth for?" said Lancelot.

"A spell," said Merlin.

Lancelot ran off quickly, and within five minutes he was back under Merlin's window with some soil. This Merlin placed a charm on, so it rose to his window on its own. He lifted it from the air, thanked Lancelot, and returned to his spell ward, noting happily that Anne had gone back to sleep, so he put her in her basket back into the inner room.

Then came time to cast the ward. The fine, slightly sticky powder that was now in his mortar he scattered all around the room. Then he chanted the spell that was inaudible to all ears except for the one who cast it; and then the room began to shimmer light blue. He looked out of the window; if his spell was working, he would see a faint blue haze, visible only to him as its creator, stealing across Camelot to the borders. He saw the courtyard turn blue, as well as the rest of the castle; and then, what little he could see of the lower town and of the farms from his window began to turn blue as well. He smiled with relief; the new spell ward was in place, and it was a stronger one than the last one. They had time now. If Morgause's attack would come, Camelot was prepared for it. . .


	10. Falling in Love

Morgana was not quite exactly sure of anything at the moment.

She was not sure what her relationship with Arthur would be now. Hers and Gwen's was and always would be the same.

She was not also sure whether what had happened to her _could _happen to anyone.

She had heard so often about love at first sight, and had disregarded it. Love, she thought, took too long to build to come all of a sudden, at first sight like a bolt of lightning. But then again, Morgana did not feel like she had been hit by a bolt of lightning. She felt like she had just met a very good childhood friend, or something of the sort.

Morgana did NOT feel like she had just fallen in love.

Because, she reminded herself, that was impossible. And if she fell in love, she ought to fall in love with the right man. . .

Not the one who had so truly loved her dearest friend.


	11. A Deadly Error

Morgana was out in the woods.

She often went there, to be alone with her thoughts. She was now nearly at peace with herself and her new identity as Arthur's half-sister. But at times it still seemed confusing, and she remembered her father more than ever, Gorlois of Cornwall. Her horse, Tiger-Lily, was very good at walking so smoothly that Morgana felt no jolts as she rode. But, alone in the pouring rain, her thoughts darkened and suddenly she remembered how her father had bid her good-bye for the last time...how he had swung her into the air, then seven years old, and said he would be back soon and bring Morgana a necklace made of teeth. He had, of course, only been teasing about the tooth-necklace, but he was so sure he would return, or such was the brave face he had put on to show her, his treasure, his "gem of gems" as he called her.

He never did return, and his body was brought back to this very forest that the two of them had so loved-without a head.

Suddenly a voice broke upon her ear.

"Lady Morgana."

It was Lancelot. Morgana turned swiftly and saw him on a sleek chestnut bay, riding towards her. His own eyes looked saddened and shadowed, and Morgana could not be sure whether the drops on his cheeks were raindrops or tears.

Morgana inclined her head. "Lancelot."

"What are you doing, riding out here alone?"

"Thinking," said Morgana, suddenly feeling a great deal older than her twenty-three years. What with finding out what she had, and the faint feeling-or obsession-or whatever it might be-_oh, hang it all, _she thought, looking at Lancelot's eyes. _I might as well admit it to myself that I care for him, a little._

_"In the rain? _Pardon me, my lady, but it seems slightly unwise."

"But you were riding in the rain," said Morgana, who was feeling extremely strange. Perhaps the fact that she had eaten nothing that day because she had risen too late for breakfast and too early for the noon meal, or the fact that she had been unable to sleep for the last three or four days, that had something to do with it. Her vision seemed to be whitening about the edges. She swayed on the horse where she sat and Lancelot jumped a stream and was by her in a moment.

"Are you all right?"

"You, too, were riding in the rain." And then, just as she had gathered the strength to sit up straight on Tiger Lily's back, a slender arrow flew past Lancelot's horse on the other side of the stream and buried itself squarely in Morgana's chest.

Lancelot looked around wildly, and heard someone shout vaguely, "You fool! Do you know who she _is? We _will pay with our lives!" but he paid no attention. No more arrows pursued them. He mounted Morgana's horse and noticed with dismay that blood had soaked through her white gown and had begun to pool on the ground. With a gentle pressing of his heels into Tiger Lily's sides, he shot off towards Camelot. His own mount, Hunter, would have to come home on his own. He did not trust himself to move Morgana safely when she was so badly injured.

When they were out of the woods, he noticed that Morgana was leaning against him, her skin graying rapidly. She had been able to sit up, though he held her around the waist. But it became clear she was losing consciousness-perhaps because of the pain or the loss of blood.

"Lady Morgana, can you hear me?"

There was no response from her. Lancelot looked at the arrow, which he could see over her shoulder.

It had hit Morgana directly in the heart.

Tiger Lily seemed to sense Morgana's pain, for she ran as surely no horse ever had done before, towards Camelot like a ball from a cannon.

* * *

Three hours later, Freya and Gaius stood over Morgana. Lancelot's worst fears-and everyone's worst fears-had been confirmed. The arrow had struck the center of Morgana's heart, and she was unconscious, but still clung to life. The arrow had been left in the wound. Though it was bleeding profusely, it would bleed all the more of it was removed. When Merlin arrived, he gathered seven books and commenced a series of complicated spells to knit the tissue of the heart back together and to mend the rib that had been broken, and the skin that had been torn. His worry was that she would not live until the spells were finished.

But live she did, and by nightfall everyone had collapsed into glad tears when Merlin announced that she would be all right. Lancelot sat beside Morgana where she was asleep, not leaving her side. Merlin came in when everyone else had gone. He was staying in the court physician's chambers that night, with Freya. In their rooms, the royal nurse was minding the children.

"You can go now, Lancelot," said Merlin gently. "We'll watch her in case something happens."

"Something is truly troubling her, Merlin," sighed Lancelot. "And I find myself wanting to know what that is."

And he got up and went out of the room. But as he banged the door, Merlin noticed something on Morgana's left wrist.

It was the knotted leather bracelet that Lancelot often wore.

A tiny stab of pity that had been present in Merlin ever since that day long ago when Lancelot had left him, Gwen, and Arthur in the forest, disappeared. As he went back to the old bed in which he used to sleep, Merlin's heart was singing.


	12. Morgause

A young woman sat on an oak throne in a long room.

Torches burned dimly around her. In the dim light, one could see she was exceedingly beautiful, with startling blue eyes and golden hair. Her face was taut and her eyes narrowed as she regarded the two men in front of her. One was standing straight with terror in his eyes, and the other was sobbing on the floor.

She addressed the man who was standing.

"You, Edric," she said, looking him in the eyes with a glance as sharp as a sword, "you were with this man when the shooting happened?"

"Yes, my Lady," said Edric, inclining his head. "I saw him raise the bow, but I assumed he was shooting for Lancelot, the traitor."

"So he went to Camelot," said Morgause, thoughtfully, paying absolutely no attention to the moaning man on the floor. "I had my suspicions about Lancelot from the start. Now, it hit the young woman, you said-the one you said was very beautiful and hardly past her girlhood."

"Yes, I did," said Edric. "She had long, black curling hair and the same blue eyes you do. It was the Lady Morgana, my Lady, the one who is your sister."

"Stand," said Morgause to the weeping man. He did, his face terrified.

"You have performed a grave error," said Morgause, not looking at him, but studying a bracelet on her right hand-a bangle bearing the crest of Gorlois of Cornwall. She knew that her sister, Morgana, had the same one. She could sometimes feel what Morgana was thinking, though only very faintly and she was only able to realize this because Morgana's thoughts were so different from hers. A great pain had radiated from this bracelet a few hours ago, so great that she had removed the bracelet in agony. "Tell me where the Lady Morgana was hit."

"In-in the heart, my Lord," whispered the poor man. "But I assure you, I did not know it was she."

"I am not interested in why you did it," she said coldly. "Rather, I wish to know what can be done now without me leaving here until the time is right. I know Morgana is still alive and in less pain, because of this bracelet that links those who are of the same blood. So you have not killed her, fool. You can render me a service in return, now."

The man's face filled with relief. "Anything, my Lady."

"Good," said Morgause, her voice becoming silky, poisonous, a snake coiled to strike. "You will bring me the head of Lancelot of the Lake. He may be a creature of sorcery, though he is not a sorcerer himself. You should easily overcome him."

"A creature of magic?" asked Edric, curiosity overcoming his nervousness.

"Yes. His mother and father were both Sidhe cast out of Avalon along with their parents for their parents' misdeeds. Lancelot was born human, for Sidhe become truly human once they have been made to leave that magical place."

Morgause's eyes flew back to the other.

"Go," she said, a word that held more than a dismissal for the two men.

It was full of power, of a tigerish joy, and some force other than the woman herself.

It was the beguiling voice of a High Priestess of the Old Religion.


	13. Message from the author

Dear readers of A Figure in the Shadows, and/or the gifts of a Dragon,

I'm running out of ideas of what to write. I'll definitely be able to post at least 3 more chapters for this story.

But I would LOVE some ideas.

So if you love this story, you have to review it and then send me a PM telling me what YOU would like to see in the story.

The 5 first people who do this will have their ideas integrated into my story, in the order that they are sent.

And somewhere in between will be the 3 or 4 chapters that are my idea. At the beginning of every chapter with someone else's idea, they will be given credit at the top and the idea will be stated.

After those 8 or 9 chapters are in place, the first one to review the last chapter can suggest how the story should end AND I will do my best to end the story that way, or at least have some factors in common. NOTE: the ideas, all the ideas, have to be good.

If you think that's square go for it. I'd love to hear from you, especially from MildeAmasoj and PotoPerson, who have been my two most dedicated readers and my only reviewers since I joined FanFiction.

What are you waiting for? review review review!


	14. A Blood Ward and a Childish Error

Morgana was up and about again.

Though Merlin's spell had marvellously mended her heart, he had warned her that there were some things magic could not mend, one of them being the inner chambers of the heart, one of which had a little healing left to do. Morgana was allowed to go for walks, though not very long ones, and she was allowed to ride on horseback within the village or the palace grounds.

On one morning about a week after Morgana had been shot, Merlin and Freya were having their breakfasts in their room. Ania and Balinor sat with them; Anne was still asleep. Merlin had just ladled porridge into Ania's bowl when Arthur burst through the door.

"Merlin," he gasped, wheezing as if he had run all the way from the other end of the castle, "Merlin, the full army of Cenred's kingdom is hiding in the woods. Is your ward strong enough to keep them out? You renewed it, right?"

"Yes, I did," said Merlin. "How did you know?"

"About the soldiers?"

"Yes."

"Well, Percival and Gwaine just came back from a ride," said Arthur, gesturing down into the courtyard. "They saw about four hundred-maybe more. For some reason, the army didn't attack them and they had the sense to act like they hadn't seen the soldiers hiding everywhere. Percival said they were almost underfoot and hid very badly. If they have the confidence to come here in such large numbers...knowing the ward will keep them out...Morgause must have developed a very powerful spell."

"Correction," said Merlin, lifting a finger. "Morgause sent someone to remove _our _ward. And that plan worked. But she doesn't know now that I put it back, because she doesn't know that I know that she tried to kill it in the first place. So Morgause _may _have a spell powerful enough to remove _this _ward-which, I will tell you, is much stronger than the last one-but I think she thinks that when her soldiers make their move there will be nothing to stop them."

"Never mind that," said Arthur with an impatient wave of his hand. "Anyway, whoever it was who was doing those strange things in the lower town to begin with is gone. It may have been a soldier who removed the ward piillaging whatever he could. When you renewed the ward he was probably thrown out of Camelot. But what do we do about the soldiers now?"

"Strengthen the ward with the ward closest to dark magic that there is, of course, that's all."

"What's that? And why is it close to the dark?"

"It will protect the people of Camelot rather than the boundaries," explained Merlin. "But it requires a drop of blood from every person-a payment of life-force to keep the ward alive. It was modified from a dark ward that used the hearts of prisoners, but I assure you it's quite safe. It won't draw power from people after they've given the blood."

"And it cannot be broken?"

"No. But it cannot save the city, only the people, remember that. If the other ward is removed, Camelot may be destroyed, but your subjects will be safe."

"Let's do it then," said Arthur, clapping his hands. "I'll take seven guards and start of straight away. By the way, until how long will the spell last?"

"Until the one who cast it is alive," said Merlin slightly reluctantly.

"Just when I thought there was nothing that could possibly go wrong," sighed Arthur. "Well, can't you protect yourself?"

"No, unfortunately. I can cast the spell but even if I give a drop of my blood, I am still an ordinary man."

"Well, your plan is better than nothing," said Arthur, noticing for the first time the children staring at him with theit mouths open. "I will see you two later, Dragonling and Dragonlord."

This made Ania and Balinor laugh, as they always did, and then breakfast resumed after Merlin gave Arthur an enchanted vessel to hold the blood for the ward.

* * *

About two hours later, Ania was in the library, under the eagle eye of the scribe there. She loved to curl up in some corner-for Arthur had furnished the library with some very comfortable chairs-with a book of spells or of magical creatures. Her dearest favorite was _The Hoof of the Unicorn, _a book about a sorcerer, a green imp, a unicorn, and a devastatingly beautiful enchantress. This one was close beside her, as it always was, but the one she was perusing now was _A History of Magical Wards_. She knew that her father had been having trouble with his ward, and had decided that perhaps she could help him.

Though neither of her parents knew it, Ania's magical power had been growing explosively for the past year. It had surpassed Merlin's power about four or five months ago. Ania could perform any and all spells silently-healing spells, cleaning spells, flying spells (those she had tried out when her parents weren't watching her) and jewel-making spells.

She had found last month that she could make soil into any jewel she wanted, and she had told no one of this ability-just as she had told no one of any of her other abilities other than her basic magic. Hidden underneath her little bed, she had a tiny box she was gradually filling up with purple diamonds-one of the rarest shade of diamond. She also had, with it, a piece of long string and a clasp that had broken from one of Morgana's necklaces. Her parents should not find out about that, because she was going to make a beautiful necklace for her mother's birthday-and that even though that was in the March of the next year, she would love to look at it and think how surprised her mother would be.

Her parents had left her to her own devices there once the scribe had firmly assured them that he would keep an eye on her reading; but Ania had ceased to read, now, and had put the book down. She was thinking with her small forehead crinkled in worry. Something about this whole business troubled Ania-the ward, a bad man shooting her auntie, Uncle Arthur and her parents and Aunt Gwen becoming so worried, and the mention of a woman called Morgause. Ania had no idea who this woman might be, but the name sounded bad-as if the woman had so much badness that it came to everyone who heard her name.

Ania looked at the scribe. He was quite absorbed in his work.

She quickly created an insubstantial image of herself. This looked solid enough, but was composed of pure thought. She put this in her chair, thought quickly what she wanted it to do-namely, to read her books-and then she crept behind the shelves and slipped out the door.

The castle was quiet. Ania stole out of the castle to the stables-and then whipped up her horse and rode out of the palace gates, protected by her Unseen spell, which also extended to the horse.

She was going to see Kilgarrah. Perhaps _he _could help her, and give her some advice she could give her father. Her father would, of course, be cross when he realized that she had disobeyed and left the palace without permission, but it was safe enough and she had her magic, and surely he would be pleased to have Kilgarrah's help. Merlin had not yet thought of asking the dragon.

But Ania had forgotten that just outside Camelot, four hundred soldiers from Cenred's kingdom lay in wait...

And her blood was not yet safe in the vessel.

Out of the few hundred people in Camelot, Ania Linden Ambrosius was the only one who could be hurt by the soldiers of Cenred.

And she was the only one who had put herself in their way.


	15. Ania Returns

Ania rode quickly. Her uncle had taught her to handle horses before she was four years old, and she knew very will how to ride. Though her feet could not reach any stirrups, she did not need rein, halter, or saddle. Ania rode bareback. Her mount, Primrose, went swiftly, and soon she was dismounting at the lake.

There was yet another thing about Ania that her parents did not know-another thing that Ania herself had only recently discovered.

This was the fact that Ania already had the powers of a dragonlord. The fact that she was a girl may have had something to do with this, or the terribly potent magical power that she had possessed as a baby and was beginning to return to her now. She did not know, as she stood on the banks of the lake and called Kilgarrah, that about eight hundred amazed and wary eyes were watching her.

Kilgarrah emerged from his den and then walked over to Ania.

"Well, little dragonling?" he asked. "Have you told your father yet?"

"No," said Ania. "I keep on thinking that it's best if no one but you knows what I can do...my father might be scared for me."

"You are the most powerful magical being that ever has walked this earth, my Anharra," said Kilgarrah. "You are the child of Emrys and the Lady of the Lake, and you have possessed the power of the dragons as a child, and this has given you our speech so early. He might be afraid, at first, in worry that you do not know how to control such great power at your age-but over time he will understand, my dear."

"About that ward, what must I do?"

"I do not know, child. Your father is a wise man; I believe he has done as much as he can."

"He mended it, but he's making a blood ward-"

"A blood ward?"

At once Kilgarrah sniffed.

He sniffed again.

He knew at once that four hundred soldiers now knew that Merlin's ward had been mended. His sense of smell had been growing very poor lately-it was only a little better than a bloodhound's. But, he thought, cursing, he ought to have smelled those soldiers right away before Ania could say something dangerous.

Speaking in the tongue of the dragons, he told Ania that enemy soldiers were surrounding her. Ania mounted her horse, fear in her eyes, and nudged Primrose's sides. The horse shot off towards Camelot, and Kilgarrah launched himself into the air. Now the soldiers knew where he was, he could no longer stay in the cave by the lake. He cursed again. What would guard it in his absence? But the lake would be safe for about three weeks unguarded, perhaps a month. After that time, this entire affair might be over, and he could return.

Ania was lying low over Primrose, clinging to her neck. Inside, she was crying, though she dared not give any sign that she could see the soldiers, which were...what were they doing...were they really letting her pass? Would they really let her go home and cast her head in her mother's lap and promise with all her heart that she would never, never, _never_ disobey again? She hadn't even got any advice from Kilgarrah, although she was sure he would have given her some if the soldier's hadn't been listening. But he had said something-something right after he had warned her. Although what he had said did not make much sense-though to Ania, who had not heard exactly how a blood ward worked, it would not make any sense-

What had he said? He had said, _Tell Merlin to put his blood into the vessel. _Ania puzzled over what that might mean, but all she could figure out was that it probably had something or other to do with the blood ward.

Oh, if only those horrid soldiers could let her pass. They were so very nasty to come spying on her. And if they were Cenred's, why were they here in the outskirts of Camelot? She saw that no soldier, although she could see eyes following her and Primrose.

_Were _they letting her pass?

They were.

Ania clattered into the lower town and Primrose knocked people right and left as she bolted towards the palace.

In the palace, nobody had realized that Ania was gone. The scribe, of course, saw the thought-image of the little girl every time he looked into the corner where Ania had been sitting and reading. Freya and Merlin had both popped their heads in once of twiice and seen the image and gone off again.

Ania ran into her parent's room, where they were pounding different dusts in a mortar for a spell-and poured out her whole story. How she had made a thought image, how she had gone to Kilgarrah, how she had just asked him about the wards when he smelled the soldiers.

At first, Ania was so distraught that Freya did not scold. Merlin looked on helplessly, for now the soldiers knew that the ward was in place. But after about ten minutes, when Ania's sobs quieted, Freya sat her up in her lap and said,

"Now you know, don't you, what happens when you disobey? All kinds of nasty things happen."

"I'm so sorry," said Ania.

"I know you are, dear, and I'm glad you know now. Imagine what would have happened if a soldier had tried to hurt you."

"Nothing," said Ania honestly. "I know I haven't said anything-but remember that magical thing that happened when I was a tiny baby?"

"Yes..."

"Every drop of that power-all of Kilgarrah's during the time underground-has come back to me now. And I know how to control it-that was how I made the thought image. If a soldier tried to hurt me, I'd _kill _him."

"There's one thing I don't understand," said Merlin, frowning. "If Kilgarrah told you to go back, the soldiers must have known you'd seen them, and even if they are only watching, they would have attacked. I don't understand."

"Well..." said Ania. "Kilgarrah told me in the tongue of the dragons. I've been able to speak it and understand it for a little while now. I know you told me when I grew up I could, but two months ago I started understanding, and then I was able to speak it."

This was another explosive for the poor parents. They gazed, dumbfounded, at their daughter.

"I'm sorry," said Ania, crying again. "But I wanted to surprise you on your birthday, Daddy. And I made a necklace out of purple diamond with my magic, Mamma. I didn't think it was bad, I just wanted to surprise you both."

"My dear, don't cry," soothed Freya. "The fact that you knew it probably saved your life, because otherwise Kilgarrah would have had to tell you in the common speech, and the soldiers would have attacked. But do you mean you can create jewels? Why, sweetheart, even your father can't do that, and he's the court sorcerer. You should be proud."

"But now Morgause knows." said Merlin in despair. "Oh, Ania."

"Well, she can't know yet," said Freya, springing to her feet. "Come on, Merlin. Let's see if there's any way to strengthen the ward that Morgause can't counteract. Ania, go to the throne room and give a drop of blood to Uncle."

Ania ran off toward the throne room, and Merlin and Freya got to work.

"You know, Freya," said Merlin, "there was actually a time when I fancied that being the Court Sorcerer would be peaceful."


	16. To Cleave them Apart

Morgause was alone in the old throne room, and wondered why her soldier's had so little sense that they would go eight hundred at a time into a forest and expect not to be seen.

_I shouldn't stay here, _she thought furiously. _I am surrounded by idiots. _

She had just received some very disturbing news; that being that Merlin, the court sorcerer, had created a blood ward to rescue the people of Camelot - and presumably, Arthur and the rest of the royal family as well. However, through the bracelet that she always wore on her left wrist, she had just discovered something even more disturbing than the fact that now all of Camelot was protected from her wherever they went.

Some time ago, the bracelet had sent Morgause a very strange feeling she had never had since her childhood, which she had left behind before she was even past it. It was a feeling that made her want to dance, to sing, to shout that she was at the peak of the world. Morgause had frowned and then realized it was coming from Morgana's bracelet about a fifty miles away.

And then it had sent her an image of two people, side by side in a bench. It was very clear that one was a young woman and the other, a slightly older man. They were gazing at each other with the obvious adoration that came to people in love. Their hands were linked together, and the young woman's hair was full of roses; more roses lay in the man's lap. It seemed that he had put them in her hair Morgause had strained to see. Scrying through the bracelet was a tricky business; the only thing that one could be sure were true were feelings, and then there was also the fact that feelings changed so quickly.

Without doubt, that woman was Morgana. It explained why her bracelet had been sending Morgause such strange feelings-she was madly and completely in love. Morgause allowed herself a small half-smile as she looked at her sister. Love would never come to Morgause; even now she knew that, and did not worry herself over it. Love was so...debilitating, at least to one so powerful as she was.

But who was the man on the bench? He too looked vaguely familiar-no, very familiar, but she could not place it-not at that angle. She tilted her head slightly, and then gasped. A crystal goblet of mead she had been holding fell to the ground, where it shattered. Golden mead splashed everywhere.

It was Lancelot du Lac. Lancelot who had betrayed her plans to Arthur, daring to set his eyes on her sister. Morgause's eyes narrowed in rage. Morgana, though she had never met her, was the only link that Morgause had to the days before she was a high priestess, although Morgause herself did not know this. And Morgause knew, at once as she watched Lancelot kiss Morgana's cheek and watched Morgana flame red like a rose-that Morgana must not be hurt.

"Damn! Oh, Goddess, let some evil fortune come to Lancelot, not by the hands of me or my soldiers," said Morgause, whose eyes flamed golden as she looked at the effigy of Ishtar opposite her. "Make Morgana fall in love with someone else, make her stop loving him-oh, anything that will separate these two." How was it, she thought, cursing inwardly, that out of the hundreds of women in Camelot, Lancelot had to set his eyes on her sister? She would not touch him now; anyway, she thought ruefully, her soldier would not be able now to bring back his head, because of Merlin's blood ward.

There must be some way, she thought, wildly searching her mind, to strike at Lancelot. Some way she could separate the two lovers before this went any further-or they married. Morgause toyed with the idea that Arthur would forbid the marriage, but she discarded it. Arthur _had _married a serving girl, and he wouldn't be a hypocrite because of his knight's code hogwash.

But oh, there was a way. Such an easy way, such a simple solution to her problems. She knew that love could not be tampered with. But she herself could break his heart-she, in the shape of Morgana-or even a Projection of her thought in the shape of Morgana-could break Lancelot's heart. He would never speak cruel words to her, Morgause knew. He, too, held so tightly to the code of the knights (Arthur had, she'd been told, recently made Lancelot one.) that he would never injure a woman physically or mentally.

He would leave Camelot, as he had left for Arthur's servant wife years before. He would leave for her sake. And Morgana...Morgana would never know what had happened, because Morgause's bracelet could not relay feelings to Morgana as Morgana's could to Morgause's. And Morgana's heart and hopes would be dashed at first, but she would recover and fall in love with someone else.

Morgause resumed her seat at the throne, oblivious to the broken glass and pool of mead at her feet. The catlike eyes were narrowed and a smile played about the corners of her mouth.

Lancelot du Lac was going to pay.


	17. Marry Me

**DEAR READERS, THE IDEA FOR THE LAST CHAPTER WAS GIVEN TO ME BY POTOPERSON. POTOPERSON, I APOLOGIZE FOR NOT WRITING IT IN THE LAST CHAPTER.**

* * *

Morgana was singing as she was in her room. She had given her maid the day off and decided to clean it herself. With duster and cloths she danced about her room, brushing the curtains, making her bed, tidying the tabletops and putting her bookshelves straight. When she had finished, she placed in the many vases small nosegays of flowers, all from the enormous bouquet that had turned up outside her door that morning. There had been a note attached to the largest and most beautiful red rose.

_My dearest Morgana_

_Please accept these flowers as a humble gift, and, if you can, meet me in the gardens at noon precisely. _

_Yours ever, _

_Lancelot. _

Even before she had found the note, she had known they were from Lancelot. Every morning something or other mysteriously appeared for her. Sometimes it was flowers. Other times, it was a book. Sometimes it was a few neatly packaged sweetmeats on the table outside the door. Once, Lancelot had even left an armful of some billowing gossamer white cloth which shone beautifully. Morgana had not yet found a dress pattern nice enough to use the fabric on, and was saving it for a white gown she could wear in summer. Some gifts were signed. Others were not. Some of the gifts, though, had not been Lancelot's. Ygraine had decided to play a joke on her and had tied a mouse to the table three days before. It was unfortunate for Ygraine that the whole family knew perfectly well which tricks she loved to play, because Morgana had seen the mouse and let it go at once.

However, the most beautiful thing that she had received was an old, old necklace set with emeralds. Tied to this had been a note reading, _It was my mother's, _in Lancelot's handwriting. Morgana smiled at herself as she brushed her hair. From a drawer, she took up Lancelot's necklace and fastened it about her throat. Then she got dressed in a new green silk gown that appeared to be in every shade of green a leaf could possibly be. From one of the nosegays, she plucked a beautiful sprig of ferns, and this she laid in her hair to match the rest of her clothes. On her feet went green silk slippers. She looked at herself in the glass. She was ready.

She set out through the hallways. So far, she and Lancelot had managed to keep their romance a secret. Lancelot had wanted to tell Arthur at once, but the reason that Morgana wanted to keep the fact to themselves was because she feared that Gwen still had some lingering affection for Lancelot.

Lancelot was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs leading to the gardens.

"Hello, Morgana," he said, lifting her down from the last six steps.

"And good day to you, kind sir," she said, laughing. "What do you want to do today? Shall we go riding? I know a beautiful track in the fields. We'll be quite safe from soldiers."

"No...if you don't mind terribly, could we talk in the gardens?"

"Why, of course," said Morgana, smiling. "I love talking to you."

So the two went and sat on the same bench that Morgana had been sitting on the first day she saw Lancelot.

"Morgana...what are your feelings toward me?"

"I love you," said Morgana frankly, turning honest green eyes toward him. "With all my heart and soul. With you I've been happy as I've not been for years; you make me see the world in an entirely different way."

"And I love you with every fiber of being I possess," said Lancelot, "And I want to ask you...Morgana...will you consent to be my wife?"

He never did get an answer to that question. Morgana had thrown herself into his arms and wrapped hers around his neck.

"Is that a yes then, Morgana?" he asked.

Morgana sat up, a radiant smile on her face. "It is. Oh, Lancelot..."

"Now, we have to settle on a ring," said Lancelot. "Would you like an emerald to match your necklace? And do you want diamonds on the band or sapphires?"

"Yes to emeralds and diamonds," said Morgana, smiling as she hadn't done for years.

Lancelot drew from his pocket a tiny bundle. Inside were two rings. Both were the most beautiful ones Morgana had ever seen; there was something about the making itself, besides the size and brilliance of the stones.

"These are the rings that I bought this morning," he said. "One for each hand. On your left hand I will put the one with diamonds and emeralds, and the other will have the ruby set with sapphires. Do you like it?"

"Oh," said Morgana. "Yes, I do...but how much did they cost?"

"Don't worry!" said Lancelot with a smile. "I could have spent my entire fortune on these rings for you, and thought it the best I had ever bought. Nothing can _ever _be good enough for you, Morgana. You're a ray of light-and you illuminated my life."

Merlin, Freya, Arthur, Gwen, Ania, Ygraine, and Balinor were directly above. Gwen's dressing chamber looked directly into the gardens, and it was here that all of them were, hanging out of the window to gape at the two below.

"See!" said Merlin triumphantly. "I was right. But nobody believed me."

"Well, I do now," said Arthur, who was a bit dazed.

"I think it's _wonderful_," said Freya.

"We can use that fabric he gave her for her wedding dress!" said Gwen.

"I think he intended her to use it for their wedding from the start," said Ania.

"Did she think my mouse was from him?" asked Ygraine, not to be left out of the fun.

"No," said six voices at once.

"Oh well," said Ygraine. "Maybe I'll play a trick on Lancelot instead."

When the happy couple went back inside, they were thumped on the back and congratulated by the Merlin, Freya, Arthur, Gwen, the children, and all the knights who were in the palace at that time.

* * *

"Well, when we've got a wedding to sort out-a _royal _wedding-it seems to make our other troubles pale in comparison," joked Arthur that night.

And everybody laughed. The bloom of love had made anything and everything seem possible to all of them-and made Arthur and Merlin think of their own younger days.

"When can _I _get married, daddy?" asked Ania.

"In thirteen years," said Merlin, putting his daughter on his knee. "Thirteen years is precious little time, sweetheart. I mean it to go as slowly as I can before I've got to give you up."

"What about me?" asked Ygraine.

"Never," said Arthur heartlessly. "Your mother and I are going to keep you close to us as long as we live."

"Arthur!" scolded Gwen.

The rest of the conversation was drowned in another shout of laughter.


	18. Daughter of Dragons

Morgause had called all the soldiers back from Camelot. It would not do any good to keep them there while she had no idea herself what to do with them. Her bracelet did not do anything now-a-days other than send her Morgana's love-lorn thoughts, and so she had taken it off, wondering what she was to do. If Morgana was truly as in love as all that, what could Morgause do about Lancelot? What could she do?

She toyed with the idea of the Teine Diaga, a process which made a person into nothing more than a willing slave. But she discarded it. She could never put her sister through that pain. Never. She remembered what her mother had told her about Morgana.

Vivienne of Cornwall had vanished when her husband died. She had gone to find Morgause, who was then eleven years old, with the druids, and together they had gone to live on the Isle of the Blessed, the old stronghold of the witch Nimueh. Vivienne had been a sorceress, and she taught her daughter, who already had a dangerous knowledge of magic, all she knew. Vivienne had died when Morgause was fifteen, and by then Morgause was powerful enough for what she wanted to do.

Her mother had poured into her ears the story of her younger brother on the throne, because her father was ashamed to claim her as his daughter. She spoke of another younger sister, a full sister, who had terrible visions as a result of her magic, which had been drugged into disappearance for years upon years. By the time Vivienne was dead, she had corrupted her child thoroughly; and Morgause wanted nothing more than to revenge herself upon the man who ought to have claimed her as his daughter and heir, and upon the brother who had taken her place.

Her mother had died telling her, "If you ever do find Morgana, Morgause, do what is _best _for her."

Morgause shook her head to clear it. There was no use for thinking about the past when thee present was at hand, very real and very troubling.

But what was she to do...oh, that was the crucial issue.

And Merlin...well, she had long ago thought that Merlin would be a valuable slave. But she doubted he could ever be captured...something about his little daughter's magic seemed to have rubbed off on him.

Morgana sat up.

That was the key.

She needed power to break a blood ward.

And the only way she could get it was by harnessing a dragon's power; she knew from her spies that the child had the powers of the great dragon. But what she also knew was what the child was in her previous existence-Anharra, daughter of Kilgarrah, a dragon famed for her power.

All she needed was a way to ensnare the little child...what came after was as good as done.

* * *

AGAIN CREDIT TO POTOPERSON FOR THIS IDEA. :) THANKS!


	19. Wedding Plans

In Camelot, plans were in full swing for Morgana and Lancelot's wedding. The beautifully shining fabric Morgana had been given was being tailored and trimmed for the overgown of her wedding dress. The undergown was to be white silk.

Gwen, Morgana, and Freya all worked with the thread-mistresses. The dress took shape quickly, the undergown first. Morgana took great care with the overgown and stitched it herself, because she trusted no one but herself to handle the precious cloth. Ania and Ygraine were almost beside themselves with excitement. They had never been to a wedding before, and delighted in doing jobs for the women busy at sewing, or for the workmen decorating the palace gardens with ribbons and a marquee that was proving very difficult to set up. However, Merlin settled that in a trice, and embellished the marquee with golden baubles and tiny charms for the many palace children who would be attending the wedding.

Expensive silk was found for the dresses of the seven bridesmaids. They were Ania, Ygraine, and five other girls, daughters of gardeners, stable-hands, and the like. Arthur asked why Morgana wanted her bridesmaids to be so small, but she merely laughed and threw a spool of thread at him. Due to Morgana's skill at archery, the spool hit Arthur in the small of the back, whereupon Merlin cheered. Arthur had chucked so many things at him over the years; it was only just that someone should chuck things at him too.

The whole of Camelot was turning out for the wedding. Every family had some gift, no matter how small, for Morgana, who had often placed herself in the way of Uther's wrath for the sake of the townspeople. She had a stronger will than Arthur, and always would have more courage as well.

Morgana herself was singing with joy within her. Lancelot was wearing a pair of ceremonial robes-he was being married in knight's gear.

The wedding was set for the first day of autumn; it was now three weeks before. The dresses for the little girls were finished, tried on, and approved of; Gwen and Freya ran helter-skelter trying to find a gown for the wedding, and Freya settled on her violet wedding dress, while Gwen spread all her dresses on her bed and asked her daughter Ygraine to pick the one she liked best. Merlin decided he would wear his own ceremonial robes, and Arthur looked at a variety of robes and chose the ugliest to tease Morgana.

Baby Anne, now six months old, had a tiny frock of her own. She could speak a few words now, "Ma" for Freya, and "Papa" for Merlin. Arthur she called (and Arthur suspected Merlin of putting her up to it) "clot."

And over this, Merlin and Freya and Gwen found no end of amusement.


	20. Ania Again

The wedding of Morgana and Lancelot was a beautiful affair. The wedding began at four in the afternoon and continued until well past midnight. Morgana and Lancelot were married at five; and the children knocked the bride over when they flew to hug and kiss her, but nobody minded, least of all the bride herself.

Morgana was absolutely radiant with happiness that day. She had always been beautiful, but she seemed to glow with joy on that evening. Lancelot was grinning like "a buffoon" as Merlin put it, thus earning him a soaking in lemon cordial When Merlin had said this, Lancelot had thrown his goblet of lemon cordial at him. Merlin had dried himself off quickly, and then the children decided that they wanted a bit of excitement. So Ania, as a surprise to all her friends, set off a cascade of fireworks which soared into the sky, and about halfway through, Ygraine crept up behind Ania.

"Ania!" whispered Ygraine. "Ania, make a picture of daddy with his tongue sticking out."

"Make a picture of your daddy with his tongue sticking out?" asked Ania.

"Yes. Mummy asked me to ask you."

So Ania did as she was asked, and a portrait of Arthur complete with poked-out tongue soared into the sky. Gwen howled with laughter, and Merlin and Freya were shaking helplessly, clinging to each other while tears rolled down their cheeks. As for Arthur, he vanished behind the marquee to give his daughter and Ania a good telling-off.

_They're so naughty, the little imps, _he thought affectionately.

But he did not see them. What he did see was the moon shining off golden hair, in the shadows behind the tent. He frowned and then gasped. He was looking down on a still body lying there in the deep grass-his Ygraine, his daughter-

With a strangled cry Arthur fell to his knees beside her. He lifted her in his arms and then saw she was bleeding onto his chest-she had been stabbed high in the shoulder. Ygraine opened her eyes and her lips trembled.

"Daddy-a man-a man took her-"

"Who, dear?"

"He took Ania," said Ygraine. "He took her away with him. Daddy, save her, please save Ania-"

And with that her eyes closed and she fell into unconsciousness. Arthur ran back to the gathering. The wedding guests stopped their laughter and chatter immediately when they saw him standing with the tiny, bleeding figure in his arms. Gwen let loose a piercing scream and ran to him, and Arthur raised his eyes to Freya's.

"Where is she?" whispered Freya. "Where is my baby?"

"Gone," croaked Arthur.

Freya fell senseless to the ground.

* * *

The wedding party had broken up with haste. The villagers returned home and Freya and Ygraine were carried back to the castle. Merlin was not with his wife. He was scrying in his chambers, trying to find out what had happened to his daughter. A search party was immediately sent out, and found nothing.

* * *

Ania was slung over a horse's back. Something about the ropes he had bound her with had taken her magic. _Oh, Father! _she cried in her mind. _please come and take me back!_

A growling voice answered her. _Where are you?_

_I was taken-_

_ I will reach you in minutes, Anharra. Wait. I will not fail you again. _

__True to his word, Kilgarrah did arrive within minutes. He made short work of the man who had captured her, and soon they were flying back to Camelot.

_"_Thank you so much, Kilgarrah."

"I will always come for you, my Anharra. And that reminds me-use every particle of your magic to protect Morgana."

"Aunty? But why?"

"You will understand why soon," said Kilgarrah, nodding vigorously. "She must be kept safe at all costs. The reason why will be obvious soon, but you will understand."

And with that Ania bade Kilgarrah farewell and returned to the arms of her parents.

* * *

That night, the entire palace was woken by a piercing scream.


	21. Out Through the Window

Merlin had heard the scream inside his head; as did, in fact, every person in the palace. Gwen sat up in bed and made a dash for the royal nursery, where Ygraine and Balinor slept. Arthur opened his eyes after Gwen had gone and tried to puzzle out what had woken him. Then he remembered-someone had screamed. But who? He picked up his sword and ran out of the door, where he promptly collided with Merlin.

"Merlin!"

"Arthur?"

"Who screamed?" asked Arthur, sheathing his sword.

"I don't know, but whoever did has magic, Arthur. We all heard the scream inside our heads...I could never have heard it from the tower where my room is."

The two crept warily along the corridors. When they reached the corridor where Morgana's room was, they were met by the sound of terrified, heart-broken sobbing. They opened the door to find Morgana on her bed with her face buried in Freya's shoulder. Freya was trying in vain to comfort her, but Morgana continued to weep.

"What's happened?" asked Arthur in bewilderment. "And where's Lancelot?"

"He was magically taken from the window," explained Freya, gesturing at Morgana's window. "They were asleep when she heard him cry out, and some spell or other paralyzed her until another spell had levitated him out. When he was gone-she was free to move."

"Send out search parties immediately," said Arthur to a guard outside the door. The guard nodded and made off.

Merlin's mind was racing. Morgana was the sister of Morgause. If Morgause was behind this, then she probably would want to put an end to Lancelot for betraying Cenred. Which meant that whoever had taken him was taking him to Morgause. And Morgana...Morgana had magic...like her sister...and like him. He knelt beside her.

"Morgana," he said, "Morgana, look at me."

Morgana raised her stricken face.

"We will bring him back. I promise." Merlin took one of Morgana's hands and thought what he wanted her to feel; his certainty that they could rescue Lancelot and defeat that sorceress whose name always lurked in the shadows. Morgana seemed to feel it as well, as well as his compelling command for her to _sleep. _So she smiled weakly and lay back down again. Merlin gave her an answering smile and then looked at Freya, who gave him a nod. Just then, one after another, a line of four children with the nursemaid holding Anne bringing up the rear came into the room. The children climbed into the bed next to Morgana and snuggled down. The nursemaid gave the baby to Freya, and then Gwen came in.

"You will be fine, Morgana," said Gwen. "Freya and I will stay here all night and keep watch with a guard."

Ah well, Merlin thought, we haven't been on an expedition in ages.

"Come on, Arthur," he said. "Let's bring Lancelot home."

When they set out, it was a clear and cool night. Merlin was not sure where exactly Morgause might be, but he felt that sneaking into Cenred's palace was probably the best thing to do first. It was a thirty-mile ride through the woods to Cenred's kingdrom, and they traveled as quietly as two men could travel.

"Arthur, I should warn you," said Merlin, "once we enter Cenred's kingdom there is to be NO magic WHATSOEVER. I am sure Morgause will be on the look-out for us and will have set up some spell-ward or other. We're going to work as servants until we've found Lancelot, and then use enough magic to get us back quickly. Or perhaps Kilgarrah can take us."

Arthur nodded. "Anything for a friend, Merlin. And for Morgana."

"Good," said Merlin, nodding. They rode off into the night, expecting to reach Cenred's kingdom sometime the next morning.

* * *

Freya was alone in her rooms with the children. It had been two weeks since her husband and Arthur had left, and by the way of thought communication, he had told her every day what happened, and told her also what Arthur wished to relay to his family or to the knights, or even the townspeople. Morgana had been despondent ever since the night after her wedding. Her eyes would brim with tears every time Lancelot's name was mentioned, and everyone had quickly learned not to say it. The children comforted her as well as they could, but even they could tell that their kisses and hugs proved to be no help for an ache like this.

Freya was on her way now to check on Morgana. Morgana seemed as if she was sickening for something or other; Freya knew quite well that grief could make people ill. Morgana was sitting by the window, paler than ever.

"How are you?" asked Morgana gently.

"As well as anyone can be," said Morgana with a half-smile. "You are too good, Freya. I take you away from your other duties. Don't let me bother you."

"If your bothering helps you, you are quite welcome to do it," said Freya. "Is there anything you'd like to eat?"

Morgana considered. She was slightly hungry.

"Just ordinary breakfast," she said with a smile.

Freya went outside to tell a maid to bring a breakfast tray. The minute she was in the corridor, she heard a loud thump and rushed back in to find Morgana lying on the floor unconscious.

Gaius had her bring Morgana to his chambers, so she did, levitating her with a spell. She laid Morgana on a table and looked questioningly at Gaius.

"What's wrong with her?"

"It does appear to be malaise just induced by grief," he said. "Well...you're sure you don't know what is wrong?"

"I haven't examined her," explained Freya. "I just brought her here because I'm needed elsewhere."

"Oh?"

"Yes, I have two people coming back so I can check how a remedy I made aided them," said Freya. "I'll be back soon." And she disappeared.

Gaius looked at Morgana's still figure perplexedly. What _was _wrong with her?

He sighed.

So much _trouble. _Morgana ill, Lancelot gone, and . . .

Suddenly a thought struck him. And then he sighed with relief. There was nothing wrong with Morgana after all.

* * *

Freya was writing her usual letter to Merlin. She could send this to him by magic, though he could not send anything to her.

_ My dearest husband, _

_ Everything is going on here as usual. The children are fine. I have kept Ania in my sight at all times since the day of the wedding. Ygraine begs me to enclose a toad in my letter, and says that Lancelot would enjoy it for his supper. Guinevere has become slightly nervous, for now she must sit on Arthur's throne and make all the decisions that he would have done otherwise. She, too, keeps Ygraine and Balinor with her all the time. Morgana and Gwen bothsend their love to you and Arthur, as do the children. Anne has been slightly unwell. I think she is missing the two of you._

_ What is more, we now know that Morgana's illness was not solely due to grief, which is a relief to everybody because I have no idea, and nor does Gaius, how to cure grief. She is going to have a baby, although the news is rather a shock to her now that Lancelot is gone. __You told me that Morgause probably would have wanted to take Lancelot because he told us of their plans. I hope you will get him back soon, and if he is killed I am sure the shock will kill Morgana too, so just look after him on the way home. _

_ I love you, Merlin. Come back safely to us all. I miss you._

_Freya._


	22. The Figure in the Shadows

Morgause was waiting to question Lancelot. So far, he hadn't cracked under questioning, and he hadn't got anything out of her. Morgana's bracelet, however, had not been as silent. It had sent her, every day for the past sixteen days, a feeling of extreme grief...and a feeling of...Morgause could call it nothing other than _duality. _As if...Morgause could not place it.

Lancelot was brought in, with a sullen look on his face.

"It might interest you, Lancelot, that I have discovered some of the things you refused to tell me," she said with a smirk. "I happen to know that you are now married to my sister."

Lancelot's hooded eyes looked up at her, wondering what else she knew. Morgause loved questioning victims like this, so that they did not know whether they should open their mouths and betray a secret or keep silent and give away more that way. Morgause, of course, knew now that Morgana was Lancelot's wife.

"Now, it might interest you to know what I'm going to do with you," said Morgause silkily. "Well, I-"

She was cut off when a man burst through the door. Morgana's face contorted in anger, but her face reverted to its catlike smile when she saw it was Cenred.

"Your spy from Camelot has returned, my lady," he said. "He says he has pressing news. Should he wait until you have finished with the vermin, or should he come now?"

"Send him in now," said Morgause. "It does not matter if the vermin _does _hear, there's nothing he can do about any of it."

A man came in, dressed and hooded all in black. Lancelot watched in amazement as his clothes changed to mimic the color where he was standing. Lancelot noticed that even in the room, he kept close to the walls. This spy was definitely a sorcerer.

"My lady," he said. "The King of Camelot and his sorcerer Merlin have left Camelot. I believe that they may be on their way here, or they may already be here. I was not able to tell when they departed. They may have left as early as the night Lancelot was taken, or as late as two days ago. I had to move carefully; patrols from Camelot are in the forests, at least twenty."

"You have done well," said Morgause. "And if they are here, we need only send out search parties. Is there anything else you wish to tell me?"

"Yes," said the spy. "You said that you had been receiving something from Morgana's bracelet other than grief. It was, you said, duality...and that is only natural. I overheard the Lady Freya and the Queen speaking before I left about the Lady Morgana."

"And what did they say?" asked Morgause.

"The Lady Morgana is with child and in a very precarious condition, so they said," the spy said. "Grief has made her sickly and it seems that the child Ania-the eldest daughter of the sorcerer, Merlin-is guarding her with the strongest spells a dragon could cast. Even with this it seems that Morgana is merely wasting away. I have seen her myself, my lady. If my eyes can see-and I have been trained by you to notice every last detail, you know-she is dying. Merlin is gone, and the old man and Merlin's wife try to do what they can, but the Lady Morgana cannot be persuaded to take any remedy or poultice, not even for the sake of the child she is carrying. She has lost her will to live, and it seems she is merely waiting to die."

Morgause's mouth opened and closed.

"It seems that her condition is so grave that she will not last long," said the spy. "The Lady Freya seems to think that the best course of action is to accelerate the pregnancy so it does not long place tolls on Morgana's health. From what they said, it seems that the old Court Physicial has a spell to shorten a pregnancy to a month and a half. They are quite convinced that otherwise Morgana will die before the child is born."

Lancelot looked stricken. So did Morgause.

"You are to return at once," said Morgause. "I know it is dangerous, but it cannot be helped. You are to take this spell at once and drop it into the well of Camelot."

"What will it do?" asked the spy.

"It will heal her-and it has my power behind it. It should do _something."_

Morgause then ordered everyone to leave. Besides Lancelot. His thoughts were agony-Morgana was with child, and she was dying-and he was here, unable to help her.

* * *

Miles away, in Camelot, someone was screaming. Maids rushed to the room from where the noise came, to find Freya Linden frantically trying to revive a still Morgana who was now as white as alabaster.

Gwen came in on swift feet and fell to her knees.

"NO!" she screamed. "Morgana, no! Stay alive, I beg of you! Don't die!"

But Freya had set Morgana's hand down. A terrible pain was in her eyes.

"Gwen," she said, taking the other woman's hand. "She's gone."

Her words were met with a heart-rending wail.


	23. Dawn Breaks

Gaius came barreling into the room the second after Gwen wailed. "Get her out of the room NOW!" he shouted. The maids were shocked but did as he asked. The moment that Morgana's head crossed the threshold of her room, she began breathing again. Gwen and Freya rushed to her as she opened her eyes and blinked twice. Then she tried to sit up.

"What happened to me?" she asked. "Why do I feel so...strange?" she asked.

"It was a charm," said Gaius to Morgana, Gwen and Freya. "It makes a person lose all will to live, and you had had a terrible shock to begin with. When Lancelot was kidnapped, someone placed that charm in your room."

"But why did she stop breathing?" asked Gwen.

"Seventeen days after the charm is put in place, the victim loses the ability to breathe, and suffocates. I got you out of the room in time, or you would have died, Morgana."

Morgana looked dazed. But the old sharpness of her eyes and mind was quickly returning and she shook her head.

"Ah well. Now we have to find it." said Gaius.

An army of maids and footmen were turned into the room with orders to search for a small piece of black stone with a weathered symbol on it.

"But how did you find out?" asked Freya, who was offering her arm to Morgana as support as Morgana tested her feet.

"I was looking over my books when I ran into this passage-quite by chance. You'll be all right now."

"Thank you," she said with a smile.

Morgana was temporarily installed in another room while the maids continued to search for the charm. At last, one of them found it under the bed. It was fastened to one of the beams there by a bit of thread, and the minute that the maid pulled it loose, a terrible sound filled the room, echoing as it went-the sound of Morgana screaming in despair. By the time it was over, everybody was extremely unnerved.

"What was that?" asked Gwen in a whisper.

"The charm was bathed in Morgana's tears on the day of the kidnapping, most probably." said Gaius. "I want this charm to be destroyed. Take it to a smith so that nothing else like this can ever trouble Morgana again."

"I have a question, Gaius," said Freya over dinner. "Is Morgana going to have a baby, or were her symptoms caused by the charm?"

"They were caused by the charm," said Gaius with a nod. "Those symptoms among many others."

"Will Aunty be all right now, Mamma?" asked Ania.

"Yes, my precious," said Freya, hugging her daughter close. Ania was so like Merlin, in her ways and her thoughts. She comforted her mother unspeakably when Merlin was absent.

* * *

Morgause was watching from her crystal ball, made of stone hacked from the Crystal Cave.

When she saw the charm, she stiffened. That was not something she had sent with the man she'd dispatched with the mission of kidnapping the traitor Lancelot. What was it? Where had it come from? And who wanted to kill Morgana, anyway?

She paced up and down her tower room. It was terribly confusing-and not to mention worrying. Morgana was in danger, and not from her. Merlin and Arthur were somewhere in this kingdom. She had no idea of _what _was going on. Who wanted Morgana dead?

_Well_, she thought, her lip curling,_ I can place Lancelot under the impression that she is dead. I will send two guards to walk by his cell while talking about her, and saying it is terrible that she died. _

Morgause dispatched two guards at once to do that very thing, and then returned to her seat to think. First, Lancelot had to be killed. Then, she had to find Merlin and Arthur. She knew, now, how to break that blood ward on Camelot. Merlin, she was sure, would not know this, for the secrets to breaking blood wards were locked in the oldest of books bearing the darkest of magic.

To do this, she needed to make a brew. She had most of the ingredients already; soil of Camelot, to render its ward useless-the hair of a two-headed-horse, and the foot of a water demon-things like that. The one she missed was strong wine-but that would be in the kitchens. She needed a full cupful of Merlin's blood, as he was the one who had cast the spell. That would probably be slightly more difficult to obtain.

She remembered gleefully that the one who cast a blood ward could never be protected. Merlin was as defenseless as ever...but Arthur...him she would leave till the brew was done. Perhaps, she thought doubtfully, he had found a way to guard himself.

* * *

What she did not know was that now Merlin did not hold the power of the caster of the spell. Merlin himself did not know this, and had found many protection spells for himself, in place of the ward.

And she did not know that within Camelot was a child who could accomplish anything magically. She did not know that Ania had sung in the tongue of dragons through an entire night while her parents slept, and shifted truth.

Shifting truth was something that was very, very delicately done. Morgause herself could not do this. Ania had shifted the fact that Merlin had cast the spell-changed what had happened in the past. And now the power and vulnerability of the creator of a blood ward rested on the shoulders of Ania Linden Ambrosius.


	24. Attempted Suicide

Arthur was in a temper.

He'd spilled a whole pot of stew that morning, and the head cook had whacked him over the head with a dirty spoon. Merlin had laughed at him when they had eaten their dinner. And by far the worst, he could NEVER have meat for breakfast.

"Stop thinking about yourself, Arthur," Merlin said severely as he did the washing. Merlin had a washtub in his room, from which soapsuds flew.

"I want _meat_," he said. "Conjure up some money. Then we can buy some."

Merlin sighed.

* * *

Lancelot was lying against the wall.

Morgana was dead.

They had had exactly eight hours of married life before he was taken-and now she had died. And it was entirely his fault. Well, it no longer mattered what Morgause asked. He would give away nothing.

He looked up.

There was a lamp-hook on the stone ceiling. He gazed disinterestedly at it for a few minutes. Then he looked at it avidly.

He quickly took the length of rope that had been used to tie his hands. He tied it around his neck and then dragged his little pallet under the hook, tying the rope to the hook.

Then he kicked the pallet away.

The door was blasted off its hinges.

"Lancelot!" shrieked Arthur. "What the HELL do you think you're doing?"

Though Lancelot fought them desperately, they cut him down and sat him on the pallet.

"I don't have any reason to live any longer, Merlin," said Lancelot. "Morgana's dead. Because of me."

"She's alive, you donkey," said Merlin, a frown in his forehead. "I had a letter from her just this morning."

Within five minutes, Merlin and the others stood outside the boundaries of the kingdom. There stood their horses, magically concealed and tied to a tree.

They mounted them and raced away into the night.

* * *

What they did not know was that they were being watched. Far, far above the citadel of the kingdom rose a tall tower. The tip of this pierced the clouds and few could climb all the way up there; the stairs were many and very steep, and the air thinned until at the top, one could not remain long without fainting. However, none of this hindered that daughter of Envy, Morgause. Her legs carried her lithely and her breathing, assisted by several spells, was even.

She smirked.

How beautiful life was. Everything was going according to plan. Merlin had shown his face, and he would soon come nose-to-nose with sixty of her best sorcerers. His blood would be spilled...and no mere cupfuls of it, either. And she thought that she knew who was trying to kill Morgana. She had been very surprised indeed when the thought had occurred to her, but she realized that it made perfect, absolute sense. She had first thought of Guinevere Pendragon, but dismissed it. She pondered awhile longer. What danger could Morgana pose to Gaius, anyway? And he had saved her when that charm had been found. Oh, but that was clever! The old man had a wit nearly as sharp as hers, but not quite. He could, of course, be a only a pawn in a much larger game. Even she, who had never known love, thought that he must be in the power of someone else. He had cared too deeply for the child.

But he had known-oh, he had known the day that he set eyes on Morgana, then seven years old, that she had magic. And to protect her he had given her doses of hemlock and belladonna-belladonna both to curb her magic and to keep her unaware of it-the hemlock to try and curb the hallucinogens of the belladonna. He had failed.

* * *

Freya dipped her pen into a bottle of ink. She was trying out a new spell that she herself had made up only that evening. Ania had helped her with it, by giving her the power-storing locket she had. With Ania's magic, Freya had derived a charm that could draw the truth-not aid in finding it. It was the most powerful truth spell that ever had been.

If only it would work.

Freya set her hands upon the paper one more time. "Më tregoni të gjithë."

Nothing happened.

Freya was just about to throw her quill on the floor in frustration when her hand began to move of its own accord. She gasped. Never in her twenty-three years had she seen anything like this.

The hand with the pen in it moved quickly, even re-inking the pen of its own accord. It sketched a drawing of a woman...a woman who...

Was that even a woman?

Freya looked intently at the paper. It was, without doubt, a woman. But who _was _she? There were certain similarities between this woman and her. They had the same dark hair-the color of their robes was the same and their heights and builds were very identical. Even their eyes were the same in shape and color. But through them looked out a soul of such hatred, who had suffered betrayal Could this be her, a more dangerous and more beautiful Freya Linden?

She shuddered. Never could this be her.

Freya then noticed something odd that she hadn't before. At the woman's feet sat a tiny man.

It was Gaius.

She had asked her hand to draw for her the would-be murderer of Morgana...and it had presented her with this. Probably Gaius was under this woman's control. Freya sat up long into the night. Who was that woman who so uncannily resembled her?

"Ania, dear?" called Freya. "Can you come here for a moment?"

Ania's tiny form appeared at the door.

"What is it, mummy?" she asked sleepily.

"Can you tell me who that is?"

Ania scrutinized the picture. Her eyes, eyes already too old for her five years, grew dark as she looked at the picture.

"Oh, I know who it is," said Ania, and in her voice there was such bitterness and rage that her mother was astonished. "She stood by and watched me dying without lifting a finger. I who was her own kin! She has betrayed us as much as Uther betrayed her."

"Ania..."

"Mother..." said Ania, turning to Freya. Freya knew at once that something more than the daughter she knew now resided within this little body.

"You have discovered who you were before, Ania, haven't you? In your life before this one?"

"I was the one I was named for," said Ania. As her mother looked into her eyes, she thought she could see the young and beautiful dragon who had been the pride and joy of her father. "I was Anharra, daughter of Kilgarrah."

"And the woman's name, sweet?"

"Her name is Nimueh."


	25. Return to Camelot

_Four sorceresses, alike in face and power_

_Shalt fight on one Auspicious Hour_

_To light the flame which they hold dear_

_Two witches muddy, two gem-like clear_

_Test fate with hope and strength with fear,_

_When the eye of the moon sheds a single tear,_

_Thou shalt know that the time is near._

Freya had found this in a book when she had ransacked the library that day, desperate to find out anything, something, about the woman Nimueh. All she had found was this-a prophecy she had torn out of the book, and also that the last Court Sorceress, in the days before the Great Purge, had been named Nimueh. She had decided at once that it had something-no, _everything-_to do with what was going on now. Four sorceresses; that would be her, Morgana, Morgause, and Nimueh. The clear ones were her and Morgause, and the muddy ones were Nimueh and Morgause. The flame would be what they all hoped for. Merlin and Arthur were already "testing fate with hope and strength with fear."

But what about the moon's tear? Freya had absolutely no idea whatsoever what that might mean.

She asked the scribe whether he knew what the moon's tear was.

"The tear of the moon, my lady?" he asked. "It is a rare celestial event which occurs only once every two centuries. It will be happening this month."

"And what happens, during the moon's tear?"

"Why, a ray of light seems to fall from the moon to the surface of the earth. Sailors thought the moon was weeping when it was first seen about eight or nine milennia past. And since that time the name 'the moon's tear' has been used for this."

Freya's heart was pounding as she returned to her room. This meant that this month she and Morgana would be fighting Nimueh and Morgause...

Did it?

* * *

Morgause's heart was pounding just like Freya's as she watched Freya from the crystal ball in her tower. She had though that the witch Nimueh was _dead. _Had the boy Merlin not killed her when he was only fifteen years old? But she knew that Ania could not be mistaken. The insight of dragons was something which never failed; and Ania was remembering, beginning to remember, her existence as Anharra more than fifty years past. How odd it was, all of it! And what did Nimueh want? Revenge on Merlin? On Arthur?

Nimueh could prove to be a valuable ally. She would have to convince Nimueh somehow not to hurt Morgana...and in return something worthwhile. And how, how had Nimueh survived that bolt of lightning? Probably her soul, stripped from its body, had found a way to regenerate her body. She was, after all, seven or eight hundred years old.

Morgause mused over this. How very, very strange that Fate had provided her with an ally so very, very strong...

Quietly, she went over to her dovecote. They fluttered their wings in fear. Morgause took one out of the cage, careful not to let the others out as she did so. This dove she immobilized with a quick Freeze spell, and then wrote out a note.

_Nimueh-_

_You have an ally, oldest daughter of Uther Pendragon._

_I will come to the Isle of the Blessed tomorrow night, at sundown._

Morgause then breathed out over the dove, infusing its mind with her sense of urgency.

Then she threw the dove out of the window.

The dove plummeted like a stone, and at the base of the tower it had recovered its senses enough to begin flying, quickly. Morgause watched as the dove sped out of sight. She smiled.

* * *

Merlin, Arthur, and Lancelot were riding quickly through the forest; they expected to reach Camelot by sunrise when they heard a yell that sounded like "CHARGE!" and turned to see sixty men rushing toward them. Merlin threw out spell after spell to protect them, but these men seemed to be sorcerers, able to push away Merlin's cursory wards with their hands.

"Shield Lancelot!" yelled Merlin.

The two men bodily shielded Lancelot, and Arthur caught sight of an arrow come from who knew where, speeding towards Merlin's unprotected side. He threw Merlin out of the way; the arrow stopped two inches from his chest and hung, quivering in midair.

"I don't understand," said Merlin. "It should have hit me-"

All the weapons and spells hurled at them were promptly flung back upon their casters. Several men were killed by returning arrows and curses, and the three men had only to wait until there were none of them left-for the soldiers had not yet grasped the fact that the arrows and spells hitting them were in truth their own. And Merlin worried. There was only one thing that could protect the caster of a blood ward...and that was if truth had been shifted.

He knew he was not strong enough to shift truth. And Morgause would only have taken full advantage of the fact that he was unprotected . There was only one person he knew of who was strong enough to do it...his daughter Ania.

And with that he looked behind for the horses.

They had been killed.

Merlin and Arthur felt sharp twinges of regret at the sight of the proud, dead horses. They had carried their masters faithfully for years, ahad been companions and friends as well as steeds. But the bodies had to be left.

Merlin raised his head and cried out in the tongue of dragons for Kilgarrah to come for them.

A shadow crossed the moon.

Kilgarrah had come for the Dragonlord.


	26. What I Was Before

When Merlin, Lancelot, and Arthur arrived back in Camelot, they were welcomed with tears, thanks, and embraces. Morgana had run through the palace and thrown herself into Lancelot's arms, and there was a great deal of kissing and hugging and sobbing. Lancelot held his wife at arm's length and looked at her as if he could never look at her long enough.

"Oh, don't I look the same still?" she asked him. "What has changed that you must look at me like that?"

"You're alive," he said. "That's better than I've been seeing you in my mind since I was kidnapped."

Freya and Merlin spent fifteen whole minutes locked in each other's arms before Ania and Balinor asked crossly whether it was their turn yet. At that, their parents laughed and took them up. Gwen's greeting to Arthur was rather less emotional, however. She hugged him for a short while and then said,

"Your favorite meal's on the table."

At this Arthur sped off after her, and everybody laughed. Then Merlin remembered what he had realized in the forest. He squatted before Ania.

"Did you change truth, sweetheart?"

"Yes, Daddy," said Ania. "I did it for your sake. Don't be cross at me."

"I'm not, my dear," he said. "But now we must keep you so safe that nothing can touch you at all."

"She has found out who she was before, Merlin," said Freya quietly.

"Who was she?"

"I was Anharra," said Ania, looking at her father. "You know who that is."

"And we know that a woman called Nimueh is trying to kill Morgana," said Freya.

Merlin stood bolt upright.

"Nimueh?"

"She watched Uther's men kill me and didn't turn a hair," said Ania.

"But she's dead..."

"No, she isn't," and Freya fished out the drawing of Nimueh. "Are we talking about the same Nimueh?"

"Oh, yes, we are, that's her to the life. I exchanged her life for Gaius's eight years ago."

"Then how is she alive?"

"She must have traded someone else's life to bring back hers-brought a living soul into the dead to return hers to the living."

"She's trying to kill Morgana, Merlin. It was her. And I think she's poisoning Gaius's remedies or inhabiting his mind-possessing him."

"Gaius?"

Freya pointed at the tiny Gaius in the drawing.

"Freya, you do know what happens when someone realizes that another person is possessed?"

"What?"

"That person realizes it too. Where's Gaius?" And Merlin looked around in sudden fear.

"In his room..."

"Come on, Freya, before it's too late!"

And the two ran like the wind up to Gaius's chambers. They threw open the door to silence.

"It is too late," breathed Merlin, looking at Gaius, who was still on his bed, arm dangling to the floor. A tiny flask, which was empty, was grasped tightly in his hand. In Gaius's other hand, which was on his chest, was a note. Freya snatched up this arm and found that it was cold.

"He's dead, Merlin," she said. "And it's all of it my fault. If I'd never tried to find out-if I hadn't found that spell..."

Merlin was looking at the note.

_I know now that one of you knows I am possessed. For I know now that I am and I know that I was used to try and kill Morgana and if I am used again, I fear I will not fail. I will not risk her life, and all of yours, for the sake of my own. I leave all of you the hopes that my death will not cause too much grief and that it will thwart that power using me to carry out its will. I remember tying the charm under Morgana's bed as if my hands were working of their own accord, no longer servants to my will. I remember slipping mercury into her food to sicken her. I was by turns not myself and myself. I leave my thanks to the one who discovered this. Thank you. You saved Morgana's life, and possibly all of yours, and you saved my soul. Merlin and Freya, I hope that the both of you will be happy for as long as you both live with each other and your children, and that Merlin's power continues to keep evil at bay from Camelot. _

_Lancelot and Morgana, I leave hopes for your happiness and my sincerest apologies. I was not myself, Morgana. And yes, I did try to drug your magic back into the slumber it was in when you were a child of two or three. But it was for your sake, Morgana. I have not given that tincture to you since Uther was killed. He would have dragged his own daughter to the pyre himself, with his own hands. _

_Arthur and Gwen? What can I say? Both of you have become a torch of what reality can be. Guard your children, and guard Camelot. Stay by Merlin. Nothing can harm you. _

_My little Ania. You, dear one, daughter of dragons, are meant for the highest magic that the world can do...more than your father's, more than your mother's. You are the most powerful sorceress to ever walk the earth. And I leave you this spell, gera mig sem ég var áður... you will understand what it does, in time. _

_And to Ygraine, Balinor, and Tom and Anne, I leave all the charms I have which they love so dearly. _

_At the end of this letter I bring the life of Gaius Ambrosius to an end as well._

Freya's eyes filled with tears and she wept into Merlin's chest.

"He's gone, Merlin," she sobbed. "It's all my doing, all of it."

"Freya, he was right," soothed Merlin. "It wasn't your fault. At all."

* * *

_Oh**, DON'T WORRY. Gaius isn't out of the picture. We're certainly going to hear from him again. Maybe we're going to have a rerun of season 1, Episode 13 . . . . . . . . . .or whatever episode it was when Merlin fought Nimueh. . . . .**_

* * *

Gaius's body was burned the next morning. His funeral boat was sent out on the lake of Avalon. There were no dry eyes on that day; even Arthur had cried.

After the funeral, everyone back at the castle had neither the will nor the energy to do anything. The children had not stopped crying since they had woken up in the morning. Ania had looked at the spell that he had given to her. Merlin had tried to find out what it did but nothing had happened.

" Gera mig sem ég var áður." Ania said the words in her head. "Gera mig sem ég var áður."

She began to shake. In terror she dropped the piece of paper that Merlin had copied out the spell on. Her limbs jerked and a pain ripped through her heart. She tried to scream, but she had no voice. She could not stand...fire was rolling through her, she was being stabbed by a hundred hot swords. How wax, flames, boiling oil, were licking her from head to toe. Oh, the pain...anything but that. _Let it end! _she prayed.

And then she was cold. Colder than ice, colder than hatred, colder than Midwinter's Day.

Then she was lying on the floor. Her body-and there was a great deal more of her than she was used to-was cold on the outside and hot on the inside. Her skin felt metallic, her insides felt as if they were liquid.

Ania got up cautiously and realized that her mind was different...she could close her eyes, and smell, and then see around her with her eyes closed. How very strange.

She caught sight of herself in the glass hanging on the wall opposite her and then she stared in disbelief.

Then something akin to a smile curved her lipless mouth, baring sharp teeth.

She was what she had once been, what she, Anharra, had been born to be.

A dragon.


	27. Broken

Ania looked down at herself. She tentatively opened her mouth. She was not sure exactly how to control this new body of hers. To her relief, no jet of fire shot from it. She also seemed to not be able to move her front legs. Whenever she tried, she moved her wings instead.

Finally, after trying to move her pair of front legs for about ten minutes, she was able to establish some control over them. Then she worked her mouth...which seemed oddly stiffer than she was used to, as if she had a tooth-ache. She found that she could move it enough to speak, and then repeated the spell, bracing herself for the terrible pain to come.

However, it did not come. It felt as if water was running over her, smoothing away her front legs, shortening the long bones of her wings into her own small arms, and running over her tail until it had ceased to exist. She looked at herself in the glass; only she, her own small self, was standing there, looking shocked as well as elated.

"Ania!" A rapping came at the door. "Ania, open the door."

Ania recognized Morgana's voice and ran to open the door. She saw there Morgana, who had shrouded herself in a black gown and hood to mourn for Gaius. The minute she had crossed the threshold she slammed the door shut and locked it. Then she ran across to the bookshelf and pulled out _The Dark World for the Noblest of Spellcasters. _

"Er...Morgana?" ventured Ania. "What are you doing?"

"Looking up a spell," said Morgana tersely.

"Why in the dark book?"

"Because someone in the lower town was shot. With an arrow. I don't know why...but it seems as if the blood ward is weakening. Of course, the arrow may have come from inside the town itself and that said person who was shot doesn't remember whether he gave his blood or not...but everyone says that they didn't see anyone shooting and swore that they hadn't shot the arrow. I need to look up what CAN harm a blood ward."

* * *

Ania left Morgana to it and wandered about the castle alone. Her mother, still terribly guilty about Gaius's suicide, was still sobbing in his room. Her father was there with her. The nursemaid was with the younger children; Ygraine was crying because she had loved Uncle Gaius; so were Balinor and Tom; and tiny Anne was crying because all the others were crying. Gwen had betaken herself to the lake, in which now lay Gaius's ashes. Arthur was sitting in the throne room and snapping at all the guards.

Ania sighed. Life had been so different since Lancelot had arrived months ago, bearing news of the woman Morgause. But then again, she had heard her parents say that Gaius had died because of Nimueh, and that Ania could definitely understand. At once that last memory of her old life came rushing back to her, but Ania pushed it away. It was no use to remember that pain tearing through her body, no use to hear her father's screams inside her head, no use to look at the face of Nimueh as she herself cried out for help. It was no use to watch Nimueh's lip curl before her, no use to remember sinking into blackness-no use to remember her father crying out,

"_Anharra! Anharra! Anharra!"_

She shook her head.

With nowhere else to go, she went to the stables to greet her horse, Primrose. She noticed something extremely odd; the horses seemed exceedingly nervous and some were neighing in agitation. There was nobody in the stables at all, but these neighs were not the neighs of hunger. They were fearful, warning her, _Keep away, Ania! Keep away!_

"Why?" she asked aloud. "What is wrong?"

At once a shadow fell over the door. She turned, and beheld two women standing in the doorway. At first she had no idea who they might be, but realized quickly that she did, indeed know them.

Though she did not know it, she struck a dramatic figure there, facing the daughter of Envy, Morgause, and the daughter of Rage, Nimueh. At once an apprehension crossed the face of Morgause, but Nimueh remained staring down at the girl with the coldest, coldest eyes that Ania had ever looked into. She stared back. These eyes had changed since Ania had last seen them.

"Get out of our way," said Nimueh, whose voice was as cold as her eyes. "We need a horse."

"No," said Ania. At once, she began going over the spell in her mind. The change began almost immediately, but as it came from the inside out, the two women saw nothing.

"Get out of the way, girl, or it will be so much the worse for-"

She stopped in her tracks. An enormous dragon is something to look at; but even a fairly small six-year-old dragon was larger than the finest, greatest horse and was nothing to be scoffed at. To her delight, Ania found herself five feet above the woman's head. She cried out in the voice she had possessed fifty-seven years ago, and let all her hatred and rage at this woman rush to her tongue.

"You! You dare to come here, to my home, and think to kill those I hold dear! You watched me dying and you did not lift a finger!You broke the first law of magic-that all magical beings must aid each other in their time of need. You broke that sacred oath you took the day that your power came to you! And now, here I stand before you, what I was years and years ago. You never forgot that it never does do to excite the anger of a dragon. But you betrayed a dragon who was dying, a dragon who had no power to make you keep your oath.

"And yes, Nimueh! I am here! I have returned! And even if I were blind I should know you by the way you tread, by the way you move, by the way that your scent sends pangs of sickness to my stomach! I would know you if I had not seen you for a thousand years-and now-taste what you made me feel, all those years ago!"

And she blew out over Nimueh, her breath turning to deep green fire as she did so. Nimueh turned and ran for her life. Morgause followed suit.

She did not follow the two very quickly, merely so that she could better see the expressions on their faces. However, a strange sensation began to creep over Ania's body. She could not move...and she fell to the ground, resuming her human form. Nimueh returned to stand over her. Her lips were curled the same way that they had curled so long ago.

"Foolish child," said Nimueh in a malicious voice, "did you think I did not know who you were? Truly? You were but six years old when you fell; and you are about that age now and you learned _nothing _that could aid you in defeating me."

"Nimueh, you won't be able to hurt her," said Morgause. "First the father, then the daughter."

Nimueh turned and shook her head. "You don't understand, Morgause," she said, and waved her hand once over Ania, who at once became still. At once there was a crack that resounded through the entire kingdom as far as the eye could see.

Then she turned back to Morgause. "It was she, not her father, who held the power of the creator of a blood ward."


	28. The Four Elements

It was when Merlin heard the screams of the villagers outside that he looked up. Two figures were walking quite calmly about, and would choose to strike down one here, one there. Merlin's heart stood still. If the blood ward had been broken-

_Oh, My God. _He would not allow the thought even to form in his head as he screamed through the hallways as he ran down-

"Freya! Get everyone into the tunnels! Cast an undetectable charm-they won't have all of us yet!"

Crazed, he burst into the lower town. He had no idea that he was glowing with anger and fear, so much that a white light gleamed around him. He screamed out in the tongue of the dragons-

"Trono, veu no meu auxilio! Lóstrego, matar!"

At once the heavens began to rumble as if the earth itself was trembling within. Bolts of lightning shot down from the sky, and they all converged over Merlin's head. Bolt after bolt hit him, but it did not hinder him as he stalked towards Nimueh like vengeance itself. For the first time there was a shadow of fear in Nimueh's eyes. He crackled with electricity and tiny beams of white shot from and across his eyes. For all that the astounded villagers knew, he could have been the god of Lightning himself.

He raised his hands, across which lightning writhed in snakelike tendrils.

"What have you done to my daughter!" he shouted, and his voice seemed to echo through all of Camelot. "Where is she? What have you done to her?"

"She is dead!" screamed Nimueh with a wild cackle of laughter. "The foolish girl thought to make me pay for the day that she died so long ago. And I have taught her a sharp lesson, Merlin. She will not forget-at least not until she takes shape in the world of the Sidhe."

An anguish seemed to build in Merlin's stomach and seep upward through his body. His Ania, dead, the child of which Freya had spoken so long ago when she had said-

"_One day, Merlin, I will repay you..."_

And Ania had been the debt she had paid. Freya had given him a daughter, nearly dying herself, who would have been his dearest treasure, no matter what she was. And Nimueh had dared to lay a hand on what on this earth Merlin held most dear-

He stood still, while the bolts of lightning above his head seemed to grow thicker...

But a greater force than Merlin stood behind him. Nimueh saw it. Morgause had wisely absented herself, gone to who knew where-probably she had fled, meaning to leave Camelot.

Merlin turned to see his wife.

What he saw was the sea itself in all the power it possessed. From Freya's feet flowed icy water, and when she spoke Merlin could hear the sound of water crashing in a storm.

"What have you done!" screamed Freya. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ANIA?"

Behind Freya came Morgana, who was wreathed in flame. Her eyes burned orange and she gathered fire between her hands and hurled it at Nimueh at the same time that a great wall of water rushed towards Nimueh. Nimueh screamed in pain when both struck her, and returned with a spell which both Freya and Morgana dodged. Water and fire flew like wind, and crack after crack sounded through the kingdom.

At last, it was over. Where Nimueh had stood there was nothing; and suddenly a most familiar voice sounded behind them.

"So it was Nimueh,"

They turned around to see Gaius.

"Ania is dead," said Merlin.

Freya took a step back from him and shook her head.

"No, Merlin. It can't be."

She ran away towards the stables.

* * *

**And the mother is always right. :P**


	29. The Gifts of a Dragon

When Merlin reached the stables it was to see Freya sobbing with Ania's cold, still body in her arms. Merlin felt as if his heart had been snatched out of his body. He sank down beside her, holding her and Ania close to him. Freya's sobs gradually ceased and she sat bolt upright.

"Merlin! Merlin, I can save her!"

"How, Freya?"

"I will give myself for her," said Freya. "It is the only thing I can do."

"Let me," said Merlin. "Let me do it, Freya. I failed in keeping her safe-it is my duty."

"I'm her mother," said Freya. "I shall do it. Merlin, I love you so. I could never let you die when it was my duty to do so. The world needs _you, _Merlin-not me."

"But our children need you," said Merlin. "Surely that is more important than the world to you."

"They are my world," said Freya. "They are my world and you are my world. It's my world that needs you most-I do not care about Albion!"

"Neither of you will be dying for Ania," said a voice from overhead.

They looked up to see Kilgarrah. "It is I who will."

"Kilgarrah-"

"Merlin, you forget that I, too, am her father. And you forget that fifty years ago I heard her dying and I knew that I _could not _save her-that there was no way I could save her-that I had failed her...and her mother..."

Merlin knew he was right.

"Why?" he asked. It would pain him greatly to lose his old friend, though nowhere near as much as Ania's loss hurt him then.

"Do you remember, that day you brought her to see me, I gave you a scale for her?"

"Yes," said Merlin, who remembered that day very well-the day that Freya had vanished so long ago as a result of Ania's magic.

"It will make sure that her spirit does not stray far in Avalon; so when I enter I can send her back."

"Oh, Kilgarrah!" cried Freya. "I beg you to let me go instead."

"If you did, you would never return," warned Kilgarrah.

Kilgarrah touched Merlin on the forehead with his snout, and then Freya. He sighed, looking at the tiny figure in Freya's arms.

"One thing that I have never said to you, Merlin," said Kilgarrah, looking Merlin directly in the eyes, "is that one should never underestimate the gifts of a dragon."


	30. At last

They watched him dissolve, as it were-and slowly disappear. Merlin's eyes overflowed. Freya's did as well; and they watched Kilgarrah die, though obviously it brought him no pain. Just when there was only the faintest outline of Kilgarrah in the air, they heard him speak one last time.

"Farewell, Dragonlord."

And at that moment there was a gasp between Merlin and Freya. They looked down to see Ania trying to sit up.

Freya bust into tears. She pulled Ania up and strained her to her breast.

"Oh, my Ania," she sobbed, "I thought I'd lost you."

Merlin gathered them both into his arms and let their tears of joy mingle with their tears of sorrow.

* * *

At the palace a week later, all was as it should be.

Gaius, albeit slightly weak, was pottering about as usual; Freya was busy with her remedies. The children were busy playing tricks on the servants and leaving mice in Morgana's room, as always.

"I don't understand how you don't shriek at the sight of them," shuddered Gwen.

"Oh, I'm used to mice," said Morgana with a grin. "I've had to be since Ania learned to walk."

Arthur ordered the knights about every day, suffered their complaints, and laughed with Morgana, Lancelot, Gwen, Merlin, and Freya over the supper table every night. Merlin was occupied with the small and large spells needed for the defense and well-being of Camelot and also taught Ania a few spells every day. Gwen looked after the welfare of the villagers as she had always done. Lancelot quickly rose to the position of the head knight of the army. Morgana busied herself with sewing.

And all was peaceful...until a summer's morning in June on which Arthur, Merlin, and Lancelot sat in the throne room with gritted teeth.

"Will it _never _end?" groaned Merlin.

"I don't see how you could stand the waiting," said Lancelot. "I mean, you've waited like this thrice before, Merlin. How did you stay _sane?_"

"He didn't," said Arthur with a grin. "I had to knock him out every single time. He drove me insane until I did."

"He did," said Merlin ruefully. "I remember that by the time it was all over I was always lying in this room with an egg-sized lump on my head."

"She'll be fine; you know Morgana," said Arthur consolingly. "And with how long it's been already it should be finished within the hour."

"You never know," said Lancelot gloomily.

"Arthur was always a picture of calm," commented Merlin with a wicked glint in his eyes. "On the day Ygraine was born he put the knights through such brutal training that by the time the sun set every single one of them was planning to leave Camelot at sunup."

"And when Balinor was born?"

"Oh, he was an angel," went on Merlin. "Well, that was probably because he was unconscious."

"Did _you _knock him out?" asked Lancelot warily, wondering if he too was going to end up with a bashed head that day. Then he thought of what Morgana would have to say to Merlin and Arthur if they did knock him out.

"No, he knocked himself out," said Merlin, grinning at the flushing Arthur. "His balcony was right on top of the Queen's chamber and he was hanging over the rail trying to see what was going on because Gwen had given her maids strict instructions not to let him in. Well, he fell over and landed in a rosebush."

Merlin was interrupted by a high, piercing cry of agony. Lancelot stuffed his fists in his mouth-for, like Gwen, Morgana had given her maids instructions to let no man near her until all was done.

The door was flung open; all three men started up, looking at the maid who had just burst into the hall as one might look at an angel from heaven who brought either wonderful news or terrible news.

"How is she? How did you come here so fast? Is it over?" he said.

"Oh, I started from the Lady Morgana's room five minutes ago." said the maid airily.

"Then who screamed, if it wasn't Morgana?" asked Merlin in confusion.

"Oh, it was me," said the maid. "I fell down the stairs."


	31. after

When they reached Morgana's room, they found her sitting up with a bundle in the crook of each arm. She smiled radiantly at Lancelot as he came in.

"Twins-a boy and a girl," she said.

Lancelot was on his knees beside her in an instant. "How are _you_?"

"Tired. But that's all," said Morgana. "Oh, _look _at them, Lancelot! They know you're their papa-look, see how the girl is looking at you."

"What are their names to be?" asked Arthur from the doorway.

"I don't know," said Morgana. "I would love to call the boy Gorlois," she said, stroking the golden hair of the boy. She thought it ought to bother her that her son's hair was so exactly Uther's and Arthur's; but she found she could not. He was perfect; entirely and wholly beautiful.

"And the girl?" asked Gwen.

Everyone sat in silence trying to think of a good name.

It was Freya who started up. "I have the perfect name!"

"What is that?" asked Lancelot.

"Sunne," said Freya. "Look at the baby's eyes. They're exactly like the sky; and that paler ring around the center looks like the sun through thin clouds."

Morgana tasted the word on her tongue. Sunne. Gorlois.

And she knew that that was what they were. They could be nothing else to her; Sunne and Gorlois they were, and Sunne and Gorlois they would always be.

* * *

E * P * I * L * O * G * U * E

It was four years since the birth of Sunne and Gorlois. The children were all older now; Ania was now nine and was looking more and more like her mother every day. Ygraine, eight, was still just as naughty as she had been at the age of four. Balinor, six, and Anne, who was nearly five, had wise eyes very like their father; but had the same impish spirit that graced Ygraine.

There were four more children in the group now; although two of them were much too young to join in the play of their older siblings. Merlin and Freya had one more daughter, Mariel, who was three, and a year-old son named Gaheris. Morgana and Lancelot had a two-year-old boy named Kveth, and the newborn daughter of Arthur and Gwen had been named Laurel.

Life was, as Merlin loved to say, very simple. Work and play and sickness and health continued as they did for all; and, as Merlin also loved to say to Freya when they and their five children were at a riotous supper-"

"You know, Freya, there was actually a time when I fancied that the life of a Court Sorcerer would be interesting."

And then they both would laugh. For they had both learned long ago that an interesting life was nothing; it was a loved life which was worth living.


	32. note to readers

So...hey you readers! It has been three months and thirty chapters or so, but yes, The Figure in the Shadows is complete! The second installment in the what-might-have been series of Merlin. This Sunday the first two or three chapters of the sequel will be up; just so that you know what to look for, it's going to be called The Dragonlord's Daughter and will, as you probably can guess, center around Ania. Well admittedly this story kind of did too but she is the main character in the next one. She will be sixteen in the next book. If anyone wants me to illustrate a little more of her childhood though just PM me and your wishes will be granted.

Thanks to my reviewers. . .

MildeAmasoj: my first ever reviewer! I cannot express how awesome it was to see your review for A Gifts of a Dragon!

PotoPerson: You ROCK! you've reviewed every single chapter and greatly boosted my writing confidence! :P :P : P :P :) You'll never believe this but I actually went and read the Phantom of the Opera (your username made me remember that I wanted to read it when I was little.)

Cordelia Rose: Thank you for reviewing! I didn't know if that chapter was suspenseful enough until you reviewed. And you have a beautiful pen name! ok that was really random.


	33. Chapter 33

Thanks to all reviewers! Yeah, just felt like mentioning that! Read the Dragonlord's daughter, although it is on hiatus.


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